Two Bajan girls tried to sell me tickets to their school fundraiser on the bus en route to Speightstown Sunday. This, by the way, is what the bus looked like:

Hola chicos,

It's me, your faithful blogging companion!
I was finally on my way to Buenos Aires after a six-hour layover in Houston and I was sitting with my knees squished in the seat in front of me, a child furiously smashing the video screen in the seat behind me, all while perusing the latest Sky Mall (for those of you wondering, my birthday is May 28 and, yes, I could use fake plastic boulders that cover unsightly objects on my lawn). I was finally on my way to the land of the tango when a rather hefty man no fewer than 136 kilograms (even if he reads this blog I am sure he doesn't know how to use the metric system) informed me that I was sitting in his seat. This nice gentleman removed the unlit cigar he was chewing in a Rush Limbaugh-esque manner (yes, on the plane) and told me that even though my ticket was for the same seat as his, I would have to get up. I refused and offered to settle the dispute with a rocks-paper-scissors match, a NY Times Sunday crossword competition, or a race to the seat (already winning!). Thankfully there was another seat open and we both made the flight, although I remained spiteful because he was given a window seat. Anyway, enough of these senseless stories, because now you have some real fresh news to read because I have finally arrived to BUENOS AIRES (after three hours of taxiing on the ground)!!!

To Venice that is. My flight from the Frankfurt airport in Germany to the international airport in Venice, Italy, was filled with the most beautiful views of the sky I have ever seen. Clouds floated gently below us against the backdrop of the morning sky, frequently interrupted by the snow capped peaks of the alps. It was truly a site to behold, and I was certain that this feeling of awe would become very familiar to me once I reached my destination. But that is how all of Italy appears; an outdoor museum full of sights and sounds that constantly evoke a sense of wonder. It is very easy to loose yourself in such a place; but then again, when you're living with an Italian host family, anything can happen and you must always be ready for the quirks that inevitably come from the cultural exchange.

Henna tattoos are fairly common, especially in the Middle and Far East where the practice originated. Women frequently have their hands and feet adorned with intricate designs for special occasions like weddings or just for fun. However, I've recently learned that there is a dangerous impostor on the market. 'Black Henna' as it is called is not made with natural dried leaves as in the original process. Instead, it utilizes PPD, para-phenylenediamine, an industrial ink illegal for use on humans in first-world countries. Sadly I learned this lesson through experience. It's not pretty, but I hope to spare other travelers from the same experience.

Cairo transformed overnight for one woman.

The American University in Cairo's New Campus was officially inaugurated Saturday. The ceremony was performed by Egypt's First Lady, Suzanne Mubarak. Not that I know from first hand account, I wasn't invited. None of AUC's students were invited actually; the guest list consisted of dignitaries and official sounding people only. Which wouldn't have been such a huge problem except that in addition to not being invited, students were not allowed to leave their dorms. Oh, the airs that society puts on. For security reasons, students were confined to the dorms all day, meaning no breakfast, lunch or dinner. Good thing I was away for the weekend!

I mentioned that I missed out on the inauguration confinement day. I spent the weekend at an intercultural exchange workshop. The university held the workshop in Tanta, a city two-and-a-half hours away from Cairo. No Egyptian understood why we would go to Tanta in the first place. "There's nothing out there." "What are you going to do?" "It's out in the country!"

I found the country part and the intercultural part to be a little different than expected, but it was nonetheless a good experience.

No, this spinning does not refer to the tango, but rather to the spin class that you will find in any gym back in the states. Those of you that know me well should know that I spend most of my summers cycling in far off lands on bicycle tours. This summer I will be riding my bicycle with 12 extremely cool high school students from Seattle, Wash., to San Francisco, Calif. Since I will not have much time to put training miles on my bike after I get back from South America, I decided it was a great idea to join the local gym here. What is different between an Argentine and American gym, you ask? Not much actually. The guys are constantly checking themselves out in an unnecessarily large mirror, flexing their pecs and slyly looking at each other, wondering, "Does my gastrocnemius look that flabby too?" The women are as always on a never-ending supply of ellipticals, discussing stuff that I really can not understand in Spanish or English.

That's what our guide told me and some 50 other UWI students during our hike along the Atlantic coast Saturday, as we skidded down a steep gravel path from a town of colorful houses in the hills overlooking the choppy ocean. The Atlantic coast, on the east side of Barbados, is much different than the southwest corner of the island where I live, outside Bridgetown: more sparsely populated, covered with layers of lush vegetation and fringed with rocky beaches and powerful waves.

I'm still recovering from an exciting weekend in Moscow -- what a fast city! I'm happy to be living in the slightly more calm Vladimir. Check out some pictures from my daily life in Vladimir and my first foray to Moscow.

Welcome to the first installment of Danielle Renzi's Prague Blog!

I will finally embark on my journey to this historically-rich city on Friday, the 13th. I know. It's a little spooky, but British Airways charges less on superstitious dates. I'll take my chances.

So, Blog readers, I will be navigating you through the diverse architectural feats of Prague, as well as some excursions to (hopefully) Vienna, various places in Italy and other European cities. Hopefully you'll enjoy the trip almost as much as I will!

Yesterday, I joined a group of American and European expatriates to run a four-mile trail through the desert. It's quite a ridiculous idea actually, pursued by a ridiculous group of people, and altogether ridiculously fun. The Hash House Harriers began in 1938 with four British colonial officers in Malaysia who went for a run every Monday night. When the Registrar of Societies insisted that they register as an official social venue the officers founded a parody that today boasts 1,700 chapters across all seven continents.

Well, that was just about the easiest transatlantic experience I think anyone has ever had. I flew British Airways with a fellow Bucknellian, Holly, and it was great! We were treated like first-class passengers. I mean, they supplied every passenger with a pair of clean socks, a toothbrush and toothpaste and 50 movies on demand. What more could you want?

Last Thursday, I went to a local sportsmen's club at the recommendation of my history professor at school. I met with a great group of interesting people who love outdoor sports and nature. The group is composed of a really interesting mix of people -- from college students and their parents to a few old grandpas. They travel all over the Vladimir oblast (region) and Russia to bike, raft and triathlon in the summer and cross-county ski and winter triathlon (run, bike, and ski instead of swim) during the cold months.

Our first excursion of the semester was to the city of Verona, originally made famous as the setting of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. And because it is known as the city of such an epic love story (and because we visited so close to Valentine's Day) we were not surprised to see the street lined with enormous red hearts, strung up above us from street poles, their construction allowing them to light up during the night. I'm sure this would have been exceptionally beautiful had we had time to stay for the evening. We, of course, did visit La Casa di Giulietta (House of Juliet) and her statue, a must for any visitor. Apparently it is always good luck to put your hand on her right breast. Good luck for love, perhaps? It is interesting because the walk to the statue follows a tunnel covered with graffiti love notes, with pencil, marker, or whatever people could get a hold of. Supposedly they have to re-plaster the walls every three months because of all the writing. But I kind of enjoyed seeing it there, as if it somehow modernized the story to fit an evolving generation.

Happy belated Valentines Day! We had a lovely day of combat in the New Territories
of northern Hong Kong.

I had never heard of airsoft until about a week ago when the boys came back to the apartment building with airsoft pistols and a grand idea. Airsoft is basically a combat sport where players strike each other with pellets shot from air-compressed guns (in my opinion, the pain is comparable, but a little more painful than being hit by a paintball). From my understanding, the guys elected captains and underwent an elaborate team draft, thus producing Team Alpha and Team Bravo.

I must admit, being a vegetarian in Prague has been an interesting experience so far, to say the least. The most classic Czech meals are dumplings, a heavy type of bread made from potatoes or wheat, with various types of meat in gravy. Needless to say, that doesn't exactly fit the diet of a vegetarian. I have been able to enjoy one classic Czech dish though, fried cheese and cranberries.

Being in a foreign country is more than just trying different foods though...

Normally, I would use this space to tell an interesting anecdote or to narrate an exciting excursion from the past weekend. But since I spent most of Saturday at Paradise Beach, right near UWI's campus, and Sunday on-campus doing schoolwork, I will use this post to discuss classes, which I have largely ignored so far in this blog, and to be unusually candid about what I have found to be the circumstances of daily life as an exchange student at UWI.

I will eat anything. I will gladly eat food that falls on the floor or street and is picked up within the widely observed five-day rule. I frequently eat paper (the Mead 8.5" x 11" is highly recommended) and I gnaw on pens until the ink explodes in my mouth. With that being said, this past weekend I experienced the most frightening display of food any human being has ever encountered. On an otherwise festive 15-hour bus ride to Mendoza, the famous wine-making region of Argentina, I was handed a plate of food that made me consider whether it was more tasty and nutritious to just bite into my own flesh. Thankfully, I did not have to further consider this option, as the Dramomine kicked in and I woke up the next morning with a drool-drenched shirt, ready to kick back in Mendoza for the weekend.

Look at how sweet life is! ...

Hello friends! I´ve been in Buenos Aires for a week now, and now I have to sift through all the stories. (Deep breath). I arrived at my host family´s apartment early in the afternoon on Sunday, and rather quickly discovered that I am living with some pretty cool cats. Laura and Eduardo are in their early 50s, but tend to act like the bougeois hippies they are. Most nights over dinner we talk some form of politics and that´s when their castellano becomes too fast for me to understand. Eduardo writes and paints and Laura is a clothing designer. They have two sons that are in their late 20s now, and both are involved in the arts, one as a photographer and the other as a musician.

While preparing myself physically (practicing 15 hours of sitting in one place) and mentally (learning the lingo and faking an accent) for my trip to Australia, I've gotten a lot of advice from a plethora of people in my life. The most common thing I've heard so far was put pointedly by my friend Matt: "If you ask for a Foster's you might get punched." There's an old Australian saying that a man values his beer more than his food, horse, or good name. So to many Australians the corporate outsourcing of Fosters has apparently disenchanted many Australians from the idea of Fosters being an Australian beer. Since I'm trying to blend in and immerse myself in Australian culture as soon as possible, it's been recommended that I stick with Toohey's, a locally brewed and respected lager.

I have always held the stereotype that those outside of the USA love American action movies with outlandish stunts and egregious acting. At a recent "intercambio" at a restaurant with Argentine students, this was more or less confirmed. At the intercambio, we had the opportunity to practice Spanish with local Argentine students while they had the chance to practice their English as we shared snacks and mate, the national drink of Argentina. Mate is a tea-like drink that is a mixture of hot water and dried leaves of the yerba mate plant. It is drank out of artfully crafted mugs with a metal straw, or bombilla. I am still undecided about the taste of mate but I have decided that it looks super cool, so I will continue to drink it.

A common complaint among the study abroad students here at AUC is the distance from 'real Egypt'. Admittedly, the new campus is stranded in the middle of the desert. And the best university in the region expectedly draws a rather Westernized population. 'Gucci Corner' is our name for the gauntlet of Lindsay Lohan replicas you must pass through to get to class. However, there are plenty of ways to discover the 'real' Egypt. You just have to be adventurous and willing to get a bit dirty.

So since we haven't had any work to do, the ISC has planned a couple of trips to entertain the foreign students. These trips have also created some incredible bonds among the international students.

Prepare to get very, very jealous.

OK, so maybe not a cop, but by any estimation I'm at least some kind of educator. On my last full day in the States, I decided to go visit the Valley View Elementary Center and teach my mom's kindergarten class a little bit about Australia. I won a spelling bee here once with the word r-a-i-n-b-o-w, so I'm kind of a big deal.

Here is a picture of me with the class:

I've been talking a lot about random isolated events that have happened, and haven't gone into too much detail about what every day looks like. And, therefore, here is a photo journey of my morning trip to school:

Oh, my apartment building in lovely Monkok, Tai Kok Tsui. Fun fact of the entry: The name Monkok is pronounced "wong gok" in Cantonese, which translates to "prosperous corner." According to the Guinness Book of Records this area actually has the highest population density in the world (average 130,000 people per square km). Take that, New Jersey!