Having graduated with a Master’s degree in Germanic Philology from Vrije Universiteit Brussel, I started teaching English and Dutch in a Flemish high school but soon felt the urge to broaden my horizon and pursue an academic career. I was accepted at the University of Iowa in the United States, where I obtained an MA in Literary Studies. This specific destination was a choice of the mind and the heart. I was greatly attracted by what is probably the most prestigious Writing Programme in the world.
In addition, I became fascinated by all things American after a first trip along the East Coast in the late 1970s. Upon my return to Belgium I embarked on (and concluded) the adventure of writing a doctoral thesis in Translation Studies (at Université Libre de Bruxelles), part of which consisted in the translation of an American novel (John Barth’s Sabbatical) into Dutch (my native language).
The cultural gap in the domain of education that visibly existed between the USA and Belgium (Europe) in the 1980s has, to a large extent, been bridged today. American “good practice” is being adopted more and more on the Old Continent. This includes careful and thorough evaluation of teaching, a willingness on the part of teachers to listen to the needs and aspirations of students, and an interactive teaching style. All of this is found at Vesalius College in an integrated manner. Classes are deliberately kept small in size to allow for lively discussions among students, and between teachers and students. The constant flow of ideas that results from this format turns me, the professor, into a student who very much enjoys going to class as new and challenging insights are bound to emerge with every session.
At Vesalius College, the villagers of today’s Globe meet. As such, Vesalius College is a clear reflection of its host town: Brussels. The capital of Flanders, Belgium and Europe is every bit as cosmopolitan as VECO. More than 100 languages are spoken by some 160 nationalities within a little over 31 square kilometers. Yet, the city perfectly manages to embody one of the typically Belgian cliché characteristics: modesty.
Paris, London or New York may be so overwhelming that visitors may easily get the feeling of being lost, drowned or snowed in. The scale of Brussels is such that, in the span of one leisurely day, you can have a French breakfast while practicing the language, meet with Tintin in his very own museum, have a genuine Italian lunch topped off by the best limoncello, discover the newest avant-garde paintings in the afternoon and have a healthy Greek dinner with a sirtaki dance for dessert. (Feel free to substitute the nationalities in the previous sentence by any cultures of your choice.) This is why Belgians are modestly proud of their cosmopolitan capital.
The importance of study abroad experiences is likely to increase in the coming decades. Thanks to the internet, we have today’s world at our fingertips. Virtually, we can travel to any destination of our choice. Yet, nothing beats physically getting on a plane and going overseas. The most vivid memories I have from my travels are sensory: the brisk breeze from Lake Michigan in Chicago, the throngs of people trying to find a way out of a movie theatre in London in late September 2001 (the fire alarm had just gone off), the millions of mosquitoes attacking sauna-goers near a lake in Finland, my first lobster on Martha’s Vineyard, an elephant’s trump curled around my neck (in a friendly manner) in Thailand, the sweltering heat of Rajasthan, the smell of coffee in the Café Métropole in Brussels...
Today we can easily talk to relatives and friends across the globe, wherever we are. This should seriously reduce the danger of culture shock. And even if we feel homesick on occasion, that is not the end of the world. Feeling “foreign” or “lost” when abroad is a most natural state of mind. But chances are that, with time, you will feel at home. When that moment comes, you can truly say you are a citizen of the world!
