Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

John Ernzen ('10)

Veni, Vidi, Vici.

Today began just like any other day on the Central European Seminar: with an early alarm that came far too soon and some sliced bread, meat, and cheese for breakfast at our beloved Radio Inn. However, even as we gathered downstairs talking about the various shenanigans that went on last night, hurriedly finishing our paper evaluation packets, and remembering what souvenirs or gifts we had left to buy, inside we were all thinking the same thing–that this was our final day together. With that in mind, while no one would say it out loud, we agreed to make it count.

And so we set off, embarking on our final “Find your own way!”--not to our rooms (thank you, Alan, for that) but to the IIE (Institute of International Education) office for our final trip evaluation. It felt fitting, realizing that we had gathered here on Day 1 of the seminar to go over our expectations and hopes for the trip, that we would now reconvene to share our reflections on what we had learned and gained from the entire experience. And while regrettably I don’t have the room or the memory to include some of the insights shared, it was absolutely surreal listening to my fliblings reveal how much we’ve all grown in the past three and a half weeks.

Following this, we had a brief recommendation section where we went over what worked and what could possibly be improved or revised for the coming years, led by the one and only Kata, of course. Even with all the different opinions and suggestions though, each one of us could agree that the week in Serbia was phenomenal and provided some excellent contrast and insight with our Hungarian adventures.

As morning turned to afternoon and our stomachs started grumbling, we wrapped up our evaluation session, said goodbye to most of the IIE staff, and went our separate ways to savor the final hours of free time.

Some of us struck out to grab a final lunch at the beloved hummus bar; others headed back to the Radio Inn to finish packing or catch up on some much needed sleep for tonight; still others (myself included) journeyed to the Great Market Hall and Váci utca to finish finding gifts for chaperones, coordinators, and loved ones. But no matter how we each chose to spend the afternoon, eventually seven o’ clock rolled around and with that came a massive migration to the nearby Kogart House for our seminar’s closing reception.

Enormous and situated right along Andrássy utca, even as we approached the Kogart House looked promising as the setting of our itinerary’s final activity. And once inside the reception hall, surrounded by IIE staff and past presenters and lecturers alike, we all realized that Kata and Michael had ensured our seminar would go out with a bang.

Before dinner, this bang (quite literally) sounded with a surprise concert of classically-trained guitarist Robert Sinha, along with fellow guitarist Róbert Vidák and the stunning Szilvia Péter Szabó on vocals. Demonstrating a blend of Spanish flamenco and Hungarian folk music, with a few traditional gypsy pieces as well, the concert was beautiful, and it was an honor to experience the music in such an intimate setting.

Even more than the numbers themselves though, what I loved most was hearing Robert’s explanation of how all three musicians came from separate styles and backgrounds so that together they could create this hybrid harmony that reached beyond their guitars to tug at our heartstrings.

Just after their final number, we were all surprised when our very own Savannah rose and explained that she was going to sing a number that she and Robert had (secretly) planned out a few days prior. Before beginning, Savannah beamingly addressed our class saying “This performance isn’t about me, because tonight isn’t about me. Tonight is about all of us, and so I need you all to sing along.”

It took me a few seconds to recognize the chords on the guitar, and then Savannah was belting out the opening verse of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” bringing home what had become our class’ adopted anthem for the past three weeks.

As cameras flashed and tears fell, our class put up a resounding chorus of “Don’t Stop” for the final time, realizing that we didn’t want to stop believing–not in this trip, but in each other and in ourselves. Each of us understood how much we’d grown and what a close family we had become in the past month, and we wanted to ensure that the end of this trip wouldn’t mean the end of that bond.

And so as the final applause died down, it was now time for Michael, Kata, and Agi (the former program coordinator from years past, and now director of IIE Europe) to take the stage and share some of their thoughts about what the trip had meant to them. What I loved most was hearing Agi, whom we had only met that night, address us saying “I feel like I know you all, because I can see in your faces the same thing that I’ve seen in all Flinns–passion.”

Following these three touching presentations, dinner was served, and I very gratefully grabbed my plate and hurried to get in line. During the meal we enjoyed (in addition to the food) last-minute discussions with some of our past presenters and IIE staff, all the while reminiscing about favorite memories and moments with each other.

After finishing dessert, it was finally time for the much anticipated Scholar awards, and with that our two amazing chaperones, Amy and Alan, took the stage to commend each of us in a very ‘personal’ way. I took home the “Ninja of Help” award and laughed uncontrollably as my classmates were honored with their own occasionally-serious, mostly-hilarious titles. Then it was finally time for our class to present our gifts and our gratitude to our chaperones, to Kata, and especially to Michael, all of whom had guided us so well on this journey.

While our presentations marked the end of the reception dinner and the end of our itinerary, our class decided that we weren’t ready for that to be our final moment together. Instead, during and shortly after dinner we came together and agreed that we would all head to Heroes’ Square–where we had ventured the first night in Budapest after our midnight arrival–for one final memory with one another.

As I walked back to the hotel with my fliblings to change from our formal attire, I realized that (since not all of our class would even be flying home tomorrow) this would indeed be a final moment for us, and so all bets were off.

After arriving there together and setting up camp at the square’s center (meanwhile asking a random stranger to take a picture of us for hopefully the last time), we voluntarily went around one by one and just opened up: Be it insecurities or reflections, memories or confessions, we each spoke about what this trip had meant to us and, even more importantly, what this class now meant to us.

As we watched a central lunar eclipse happen before our very eyes (the only one since 2007), we all knew that this memory and this moment were meant to be. We were truly a family now and, after agreeing to attend a whole lot of weddings, we promised each other that, even without future seminars, that fact would never change.

After a fresh set of tears and countless hugs, we all left Heroes’ Square for the last time and returned to the Radio Inn to finish packing and try and catch what little sleep we could before our early flight tomorrow.

So as I finish this terribly long final entry to our phenomenal journey, I feel that I must say thank you to the Flinn Foundation for allowing me to be part of such an amazing trip and providing the means through which this family could come together. Even more, though, I’d like to say thank you to all of my fliblings as well, for showing me just how blessed I am to be a member of such a family.

And so, as I close I have to apologize to Nikil for once more borrowing his talents in saying:

We came, we saw…

Boom, conquered!

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Julie Lyon ('10)

As our trip begins to wind down, I think about how much we have experienced, how many people we’ve met and all the amazing times shared as fliblings. We have reached our last day of lecture; the day was a summation of the diversity of our trip. We have been exposed to art, literature, the Danube Strategy and abundance of European Union politics throughout, and this day did not disappoint.  

We started with a presentation from Gabor Kittley, the Managing Director of Geonardo Ltd., a research company that works with the European Union constructing and engaging different environmental strategies throughout the Union. We were able to see the funding strategies of the EU and the many sustainable projects involving renewable energy and natural-resource management. 

The diversity of our day continued with a lecture about entrepreneurial opportunities and strategies through computer software and technology from Graphisoft’s founder, Gabor Bojar. He exposed us to the passion of competition and the necessity of global understanding to improve and survive within the world of business.

Given our rumbling stomachs, a pizza break was a nice treat before we were given a walking tour of the surrounding Graphisoft Park. After hearing Mr. Bojar’s journey from the ground up, we were able to visualize his immense success with Graphisoft Park's impressive expanse. The company first broke ground on the Danube site in 1998, and shortly after several more companies joined the park. With its continuing growth, Graphisoft was driven to establish two separate entities, one company for software and the other managing the park. Today the park houses 40 companies, including Microsoft, Canon, and Gabor Kittley’s Geonardo Ltd.

Rain began as we reached the Danube side of the property. Even though our exploration of the park was cut short, it was easy to see the grandeur of the company and its promising future. With that, we departed onto the city bus for a little break before our afternoon session began, a lecture by the immensely talented composer Gyula Fekete.

Hungary is in the middle of a bicentennial celebration of the famous Hungarian composer Franz Liszt. We were given a unique opportunity to hear about the composer from a true expert: Dr. Fekete had recently composed an opera loosely based on Liszt's life and music. Beyond Liszt, Dr. Fekete also took us through the history of Hungarian music, highlighting composers like Bartok and Petrovics.

Dr. Fekete also arranged live performances for us from two young artists. The first was a young singer from Dr. Fekete’s opera, who performed a number from the show with Dr. Fekete’s accompaniment. Following this act, a student from the Franz Liszt Academy of Music performed traditional Hungarian folk music with an intricate Hungarian string instrument. We were exceedingly impressed.

From sustainability politics to music, the day, like our entire trip, gave us a taste of so many different aspects of Hungarian culture. We ended our lectures on a high note, and I for one found a new appreciation for Central Europe as a whole.

Our last day of lectures was followed by our last night out on the town. For our last free dinner, many of us headed to the much-loved Hummus Bar one last time. Of course, for Lindsey or me, even this would not be our last visit; our addiction to hummus and falafel would keep bringing us here until we left Budapest a final time. Later, with full happy stomachs, we ventured to Morrison’s for a night of endless dancing and a few good rounds of karaoke. And with that, as a newly solidified member of the Spice Girls (Flinn Edition), “I’ll say goodbye.”

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Tina Cai ('10)

Back in Budapest, today was our first free morning to explore the city that we have come to consider our own. Last night, one of our first speakers, Ferenc Zsigó, offered to have coffee with anybody interested in continuing the discussion on the Roma and minorities in Hungary. So, at 10am, about half of us sacrificed the rare chance to sleep in for the chance to learn more about issues that many of us had become passionate about.

Ferenc, who has been a part of the Flinn family for years, shared with us his knowledge on everything from human trafficking, Roma women, the prospect of a Roma nation, segregation among the Roma, identity politics, homelessness, and the status of the disabled in Hungary. As you can tell, we’re a curious bunch with diverse interests and passions that make for some of the most stimulating conversations I have ever had the good fortune to participate in.

After coffee, our group had an incredibly satisfying meal at the one and the only Hummus Bar. That falafel hummus plate is even more delicious the third time. Then, we split up to either do some shopping or rest at the Radio Inn. I picked the latter. And before I knew it, it was time for the fanciest part of our itinerary – the opera.

For most of us, this was our very first opera experience. The opera was Rossini’s renowned comedy, The Barber of Seville. Not only was the plot filled with characters in disguise plotting an intricate plot of deceit, but the opera was performed in Italian with Hungarian subtitles. So, most of us were unaware of the jokes and the subplots and even which character was who. But in the end, I think I can say that all of us acutely felt the beauty of the music, a universal language that transcends borders and unites us all.

It’s funny, because less than two years ago, I was writing an essay on the power of music to unite people, to be submitted for my application for the Flinn Scholarship. And looking back on our trip, music and art have forged pathways to deep connections both within and outside of our group.

Some of our fondest memories include listening to Bob Cohen’s fusion of Roma, Jewish, and American music and dancing to traditional Hungarian music in a field by the Danube. And following Flinn tradition, our introduction to the Roma students of Ghandi high school formed through music. All 20 of us were joined by the Ghandi students as we sang and clapped to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’. And in return, the students treated us to a beautiful Roma musical performance followed by a rendition Feliz Navidad on the guitar, to which all the Flinns sang along. Despite differences in language, nationality, ethnicity, social class, economic status, education, and lifestyle, we all clapped to the same beat, we all sang the same words, and we shared a bond that was stronger than those things that might divide us.

In my last Flinn essay, I wrote, “People can communicate through music when they fail to communicate through language.” Those words ring truer than ever.

As much as this trip has been about discovering the differences in culture and life between Americans and Central Europeans, I have found that it is the similarities that have allowed us to connect with our hosts and our friends in ways that I never could have imagined. I have found families with warmth, openness, and love that remind me of my own family. I have met youth who are passionate and curious about the world who remind me of my Flinn family. I have befriended individuals who share the same fears, insecurities, and hopes who remind me of myself.

And we are all tied together by this common thread of humanity and this common fate. Sometimes, we forget that. But tonight, after witnessing the way that music was able to touch each and every one of us, uniting us in a common passion, I remembered.

For me, the most salient issues we have discussed have been cooperation among the Central European nations and the future of minorities in Central Europe. If politicians and citizens would just remember that as people, we are connected by this common thread, then maybe governments would care more about people and less about petty political arguments. Maybe the Roma and other minorities would be viewed as equal people and not be treated as scapegoats or second-class citizens. Maybe extreme nationalism would give way to international cooperation. Maybe….

But I do know that while we were savoring our ice cream sundaes in the cool night breeze just across the street from the opera house, our Flinn class bond was strengthened by a renewed appreciation for European culture and art. Together, we opened our minds and our hearts, united by a shared experience and touched by a language we could all understand. And that, to me, is what this adventure is all about.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Daniel Fried ('10)

Hello from Stara Moravica, Serbia!

Stara Moravica is a small village of around 6,000 people in northwestern Serbia, in an area called Vojvodina. Nearly all of the villagers here are actually ethnically Hungarian, speak Hungarian as their first language, and practice many of the customs we became familiar with in Hungary. The people here have been ridiculously kind and generous hosts for us. The Hungarian culture and hospitality prompted Kata to say that coming to this village felt like coming home, although she'd never been here before. For us too, our stay here marks the transition back to Hungary after our week of traveling in Serbia.

Today is Pentecost, one of the biggest holidays in this predominantly Reformed Calvinist village. Dominic and I are a little tired when we wake up at our homestay's house. Our hosts speak only a little more English than we do Hungarian (not a very high bar to clear), but we discover that their son Erik has learned some German from watching cartoons, and he does his best to translate my rusty high school German. Dominic and I discover that gestures go a long way--a handshake, a smile, a laugh, and the always-handy Hungarian word köszönöm, which means "thank you."

Since it's Pentecost morning, we go to the local church service with our hosts, dressed in the nicest clean clothes we have left after our time on the road. The church is filled with several hundred people, the largest turnout the church had seen in a while. This is the second church service we've gotten to sit in on on the trip, but it is pretty different from the Orthodox liturgy at the monastery at Velika Remeta (see Kevin's blog from June 9th for details). The service is entirely in Hungarian, but it has a structure that anyone who's been to a Presbyterian service in the States would find familiar: a sermon, scripture reading, and some singing of hymns accompanied by the organ. 

We get lucky and, on top of the normal Pentecost service, witness all sorts of special events, including a baby christening, a kindergarten graduation, and a first communion for some of the local kids. Some of our group also take Communion along with the congregation. We try our best to keep up with the events of the service, standing and sitting with the people in rows ahead of us, and paying close attention to symbolic actions like the anointing with water during the christening.

The somewhat surreal experience of hearing prayers, preaching, and singing in a foreign language is suddenly broken when the preacher reads some scripture in English to acknowledge our group and celebrate the gift of languages commemorated by Pentecost. At the end of the service, he goes even further and spends a couple minutes introducing us to the congregation and warmly welcomes us to Stara Moravica. He invites Michael to come up to the pulpit to introduce our group. 

Through Kata, Michael explains that we're a scholarship group seeking to learn about cultures and countries in a way that we never could in a classroom. She also explains that this was the first Flinn visit to Stara Moravica, and expresses our desire to form some lasting friendships with the people of the village, and to come back and visit with future groups of Flinns. Afterward, Savannah gets up and sings a beautiful version of "Amazing Grace", meant both as a a small example of our culture and a thank you gift for our hosts' generosity. Savannah's voice resonates powerfully and beautifully in the hall, and moves some of us nearly to tears.

After the service, we have a long lunch with our hosts in the courtyard of the village kindergarten. The language barrier is not as severe now--most of our hosts speak very good English--but the cross-cultural gestures still stand out. Nothing expresses generosity quite as clearly as a hot homemade bowl of noodles and beef goulash. We find ourselves communicating intentionally, swapping reflections on our trip so far and what life is like for Hungarians living as minorities in Serbia.

When the time comes to load the bus, I get a feeling for the sensation of home that Kata expressed yesterday. Hungarian culture is not my culture as it is hers, but the genuine kindness behind our hosts' welcome makes me feel like a part of me has always been here. The friendships I have with the rest of my class and the new friendships made today seem comfortable, rich, and older than they actually are. We board the bus and as we pull away we wave goodbye--for now, at least.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Leah Edwards ('10)

After having a little bit of time to explore Belgrade, we all boarded the bus and headed out on a three hour drive, passing beautiful landscapes of grassy hills, cute village homes, and swelling rain clouds along the way. We ultimately arrived in Star Moravica, a small village of about six thousand Hungarians living in Serbia. The village was founded in 1796 in what was then a part of Hungary; it did not become a part of Serbia until borders were redone in the 20th century. After the transition, the people living in the village retained their Hungarian language and culture, and many of the villagers had Hungarian citizenship and spoke little Serbian. The people in Star Moravica were in every way Hungarian; they just happened not to be living inside of Hungary’s borders. 

Upon arriving in the village, we were welcomed by the villagers in a beautiful gazebo located next to a grassy field. We were then invited to a wedding located in the Reform Calvinist Church. Inviting our group to such a traditional and special event made me feel very welcomed, and considering that I have not been to very many weddings in the U.S., I was excited to experience one in another country.  

After the wedding we were treated to Hungarian martial arts demonstrated by some of the village youth, who made shooting bows and arrows, jousting with wooden poles, and cracking enormous whips look entirely too easy. We were then given the opportunity to try each of these activities. I tried (and failed) to crack one of the whips, and only had a little bit more success with the bows and arrows. Like I said, they made it look a lot easier than it was.

After a while I got distracted from the commotion of the martial arts by a one-and-a-half year-old girl named Viola, who had fallen in love with my tourist pamphlet and sunglasses (which were at least a few sizes too big for her). I spent a good half an hour playing with her in the grassy field with the sound of whips still cracking in the background. Viola's mother, Izabella, then offered to host me, and I immediately accepted.

My play date with Viola was briefly interrupted when we were invited to see a rehearsal performance by a traditional Hungarian dance troop. After an hour or so of watching their exhilarating performance, we rejoined the villagers to enjoy dinner and listen to the music of a traditional Hungarian band. As people finished their meals, they began getting up to dance to the music, and after a while we had all become part of a giant dancing circle throbbing back and forth as we stepped to the beat. Dance proved to be an amazing bonding experience, both for the Scholars and the villagers. 

When we were all exhausted from dancing, we met up with our homestays, and I had the opportunity to meet Izabella's husband, Robert, who turned out to be the mayor of Star Moravica and the chairman of the regional parliament. Although there was a bit of a language barrier, I was able to have a discussion with him about local politics, which is something that I am very interested in. By this time Viola had gone to bed, and I left with my homestays to attend a birthday party for one of their friends. This gave me the opportunity to speak with some of the villagers. Unlike the homestays that I had earlier on the trip, most of the people in Star Moravica had never been to America and had never had much opportunity to interact with Americans, and were very excited to have the opportunity to meet with us and practice their English. 

Everybody that I came across was very kind and welcoming and seemed truly excited to have the opportunity to host American students. Even though many struggled with English, their willingness to try to communicate with us and their kind gestures made it apparent that they were truly happy to host us, and I couldn’t have felt more welcome. I really appreciate that we had the opportunity to visit Star Moravica. It has been one of my favorite experiences from this trip, and if I ever have the chance to visit Serbia again, I hope that I will have the opportunity to revisit this town.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Kevin Thomas ('10)

Today started earlier than usual, when my alarm went off at 6 am. I quickly threw on some clothes and met up outside the monastery with a group of us who had decided to attend the morning liturgy at the Orthodox Church down the road. We were all pulled out of bed by the rare opportunity of completing our monastery stay with a traditional Orthodox service. In order to enter the church, the girls had to cover their heads with scarves and everyone needed long sleeves. 

Once we were outfitted with the proper apparel, we entered, and my eyes immediately grew big to absorb the vibrantly colored frescos that covered every wall as well as the ceiling. Iconic images of saints with golden halos and vivid garments depicted numerous Biblical events. These frescos were currently being renovated by a renowned painting team that we later got to meet. They explained that there are rigid laws dictating the style and layout of these frescos in traditional churches and also that the art’s main purpose is to connect the church attendees (who were once often illiterate) with the Bible. Our group made its way past the painting supplies in the back and each of us took our place in the central area; the males went to the right and the females to the left. 

From there, it was difficult to understand the liturgy because all of it was in a very old Slavic dialect but there was still a lot to take from the experience. The long-standing tradition of the service stood out most of all. The rhythmic call-and-response chanting between Father Stefan and the other attendants, everyone’s completely black traditional dress, and the fact that we all remained standing for most of the 60 minute service all made it clear that we were witnessing an unaltered cultural event.

Unlike the Budapest street with McDonald’s or the Novi Sad college apartments echoing with American music, this was a corner of Central Europe that had managed to preserve its original culture and resist the pressures of globalization. While sharing ideas and embracing other cultures can be a very beneficial experience (as I am learning from this trip), I found this resistance refreshing. I am so happy that I got a glimpse into such a traditional life that has not been tampered with.

While we ate our breakfast, Father Stefan spoke with us about the lifestyle of those who choose to join the monastery. Their lives emphasize contemplation, prayer, and moderation. They forsake materialism and many personal comforts to enhance their ability to seek the truth. Moderation pervades their lives and they even give up food (and sometimes water!) for periods of fasting. It is clear that their values of avoiding materialism and overindulgence would clash with many aspects of modern western culture but I appreciated the merits of such practices. This whole experience has helped me understand the viewpoint of those from other countries who are resistant to pervasive American culture. Before, I might have taken them as ultra conservative and overly traditional but I now appreciate the unique qualities of the cultures that they aim to protect. 

Later, we met with an art PhD student named Marko Tubic to learn about medieval religious paintings in Serbia. He taught us the difference between the embellished beauty of the Rashka-style depictions and the reserved, modest paintings of the Narrative style. It was fascinating to see a Serbian painting known as “The White Angel” that is regarded as a national image and was even transmitted into space with the first satellites.

However, the most important lesson I learned from Marko didn’t concern Medieval paintings. It came when we asked him about his life as an artist. After telling us how hard it was for artists to get their work into galleries and how teaching positions were never available, he told us that he has never thought of pursuing any other career for more money and stability. It was amazing how much he had endured for his art. His parents had kicked him out because they didn’t respect his career choice. This led him to move into cheap housing in a bad neighborhood. He also mentioned that he sometimes had to get by with little food. Despite all of these challenges, his passion never waivered. He asserted that if you really want something, you can make it happen but that you must dedicate yourself to it 100%. According to him, “There can be no compromise.” This really hit home with me because of my current struggle to settle on a major and career that will make me truly happy. When all is said and done, I hope I am as passionate about my career as Marko is for his art.

After eating lunch at a nearby restaurant, the owner invited us to pick some cherries from his tree. The cherries were ripe and delicious and all of us had fun trying to get to the high ones. Simple pleasures like this are an understated aspect of this trip that have made it great. 

When everyone had gotten their fill of fresh cherries, we got on the bus and headed to Belgrade. Our group bought out the Star hostel so we dropped our bags on the bunk beds and went out to dinner at the Two Deers’ Restaurant where we feasted on sausages and potatoes.  It was Nikil’s birthday, so the musicians at the restaurant followed their Blue Danube Waltz with a birthday song for him and the waiter brought out a Serbian baklava for his dessert. 

The celebrating continued later that night when we walked to a stretch of the Danube where all the splavs were docked. I learned that these houseboats acted as floating dance clubs and were a major part of Belgrade’s nightlife. After learning so much about the Danube and its importance to the region, it was fun to experience it in a lighter context with all of us scholars testing our sea legs on the dance floor. The great river even inspired me to create a new dance move called the KT Can Opener. Now that 20 Flinn Scholars and a boat-full of Serbians have seen it, I expect that it will become an international dancing sensation. 

Even 24 hours ago, I could not have dreamed I would start this day with a traditional Orthodox liturgy and end it with dancing to techno music on a floating club. I am so thankful for the mind-blowing mix of cultural experiences that this trip has provided and for this evening’s great introduction to Belgrade.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Bethany Vu ('10)

A Light in Distant Dreams

we walked
we waited
we shared

Today began like most of the past few days—full of schedules, suitcases, and rainclouds turned upside down. We woke up from a turbulent but exhilarating night under the streaming sky and continued our journey from the farm to a small town called Sremski Karlovci, where we got to see some ancient architecture, modern sustainable designs, and world-class wine making. Disregarding the exhaustion I had accumulated from one too many nights of living life to the fullest, I poured all of my energy reserves into absorbing as much information as possible from our numerous speakers and guides. However, as interesting as it was to discuss all of these academic topics, I found that the most valuable experience today was our hike—in a completely natural atmosphere apart from the intellectual world.

After touring Sremski Karlovci, we took a hike up Fruska Gora Mountain. I will admit that since the quantity of my muscle mass and threshold for physical strain are equally tiny, this activity was setting itself up to be the worst experience for me thus far on this trip.  A group of four or five of us fell pretty far behind and for a while we lost the indispensible Kata, who, upon rejoining our little band remarked huffing and puffing, “Now, we stop hiking and we start surviving.” We were all ridiculously tired and the humidity was only slowing us down further.

In the midst of my mental grumblings, I realized that because our little group had given up everyone else’s break-neck pace, we were noticing more of the natural beauty around us. We were also having more quality time with each other since our breaths weren’t divided between maintaining homeostasis and holding a conversation. We played word games, threw around history and geography trivia like the nerds we’re proud to be, and just delighted in each and every moment.

we walked a grueling forest hike
we waited for the rain to clear
we shared meals on the go

and I became intensely aware of how short our time together on this trip is and how easy it is to get caught up in the program and forget to slow down and just be with each other. We are all fueled by our individual passions for different interests that will soon carry us far away from each other, far away from the Flinn family, and far away from home. I found myself saddened by the very plausible reality that we would never be able to gather everyone for such a bonding experience again.

Now thinking back on the day in my room engulfed by the sound of rain pelting the roof, I am comforted by the fact that each one of us will become something great in the future, and for this one moment we all converged in one time and one place to share this one dream. I probably won’t remember much of that hike today, but I will remember the words and smiles that we exchanged. The Class of 2010 may not remember many of the facts and figures we learned on this trip in the years to come, but we will remember the friendships we solidified.

What will remain in my heart, illuminated by the light of distant dreams, is this:

In the summer of 2011, my dearest brothers and sisters and I went to Central Europe.

And there we walked one path. One journey to grow and develop together. We waited through the stormy challenge of facing the great and terrifying unknown. We shared one pulse, one breath in every experience we shared. And in this brief moment in our lives, we lived one life together, building each other up, and weaving the bonds that would hold us together long after time and space have separated us.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Carter-Thaxton Smith ('10)

I woke up this morning to the quiet, peaceful sunrise streaming in from my home-stay's window. Her flat, which she shared with her mother and two younger brothers, was nestled into a side street in the "Roma" district of Novi Sad.

Last night Dragana and her family welcomed two Flinns, Savannah and me, into their home. This morning we shared a breakfast of large, chocolate-filled pastries and quiet, fun conversation. Branislav, Dragana's middle sibling, had made animal sculptures for Savannah and me so that we would remember our time with his family. We exchanged our gifts and finished getting ready. The television in the living room was on and Dragana flipped through the channels till she found what I can only describe as a horrifying Serbian rendition of the popular British-American TV show ?Teletubbies?; Dragana was very amused at my reaction.

Soon we merry three were off to rendezvous with the rest of the Flinns at the University of Novi Sad, or ??????????? ? ????? ????. A bus ride and a 10-minute walk found us at the end of our time with Dragana for the trip, and at the beginning of what looks to be a long-time friendship.

We had two lectures in the morning. The first was a factual lecture on the University of Novi Sad. This soon turned into a fairly deep exploration of the intellectual and political zeitgeist of Serbia.  the second lecture covered the career opportunities for Serbian graduates. Unfortunately, the employment prospects are extraordinarily small, which has led to an exodus of skilled labor and young Serbs from the country. Both lecturers were very engaging. Everywhere we have gone we have been welcomed by the intellectual community, and we have done our best to make use of them.

Lunch was an on-our-own affair. Ryan and I found ourselves in a pizza parlor not far from the university. Due to a time crunch, we scarfed down some of the best pizza either of us have had to date. Our our way back we bumped into a couple other Flinns and started talking about the plentiful graffiti lining the walls of every building. We found one which said ?WOW took my brother.? 

We then took the bus to a farm outside of Novi Sad, where we were Promptly greeted by our hosts, a kind couple with a sincere interest in preserving the rich cultural traditions of the region, and by two adorable pugs. Our stay on the farm was a much needed break from the fast-paced tempo of our travels. The evening was spent relaxing in the shade, watching and partaking in traditional Slovakian and Serbian folk dancing. Our host kindly asked if we had any talent we would like to share. After a bit of prodding, Savannah amazed us all with two of her original songs. Later, a group of us got a volleyball game going with some of the folk dancers and much fun was had by all.

Dinner was absolutely fantastic. The carnivores enjoyed a bread-bowl filled with pasta and beef goulash, while the herbivores had a mushroom, pepper, and onion stew. We ate in an octagonal hut with a thatched roof overlooking the horse pasture. That night we had a bonfire by the tents. The two Eagle Scouts (Ryan and I) tended the fire while Savannah and company sang to the tune of Amy's guitar. A light rain eventually sent us all to bed quietly in the fields of Serbia.

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Rae Anne Martinez ('10)

Lectures, lectures, lectures, and--surprise--more lectures! 

That was the thought that ran through my head as I arose this morning for our first activity. Don’t get me wrong--lectures are an important part of our growth and awakening on this seminar, and we are blessed to have such intelligent and charismatic speakers. However, sometimes after many long, rough days of traveling, late nights and earlier mornings, with tired feet and eyes, we become lethargic. Our eyes are only pried open with respect. For me, today was one of those mornings.

After breakfast, we stumbled across the street to the Students Dorm, where Zorka, the Coordinator of the Youth Office, and a handful of representatives of Sombor’s youth organizations, greeted us again. Zorka was to be our first speaker on history of the Youth and Sport organization.

Before 2007, the Youth and Sport organization was only local to Vojvodina, but after 2007, there was a switch to developing the ministry of Youth and Sport into a national infrastructure. Today the ministry of Youth and Sport is a fully developed national program that gives grants to finance volunteer opportunities for the community. 

After the short lecture with Zorka, we had the opportunity to break into smaller groups and hear from the representatives of Sombor’s youth organizations. The majority of us centered around Diana and a few others who represented the Ravangrad programs. These programs set up several international camps to promote peace and understanding between students of former Yugoslavia republics, like Serbians, Croats, and Bosnians. 

Our dialogue quickly took a turn from us asking questions about their programs, to Diana and the others asking questions about our student involvement and volunteer programs back home, as well as the public mentality about volunteerism. It felt to me that this was no longer a typical lecture day. We were becoming the lectures. They genuinely wanted to know about how civic involvement worked in our homes, communities, and schools, so they could take this new knowledge and use it to benefit their own country. 

During Serbia’s 20-year communist rule, youth involvement and civic activism simply was not allowed. Now, as a result, the public looks upon civic activism with disdain. Community work is not formally recognized and the field of sociology is not viewed as a viable career path. I could not believe it--I was sitting across from some of the most dedicated students in Serbia. These dozen plus bright, talented, and unbelievably friendly students all feel the need to better their community and nation by becoming teachers, counselors, and sociologists, but every day they have to work against a deeply rooted, negative public sentiment. I only have the utmost respect for these students.

After a series of warm good byes to our new friends, we climbed aboard the bus, heading for Bac village. During our bus ride, our lovely chaperones, Amy and Alan, decided that instead of sleep we should partake in a much-needed “reflection session.” Our discussion group rapidly fell into analyzing our experiences with ethnic issues, discrimination, racism, and tolerance in Central Europe.

It was such a powerful and prevalent topic that our discussion continued well into our lunch at Didina Kuca, a beautifully restored traditional Serbian home that had been converted into a museum and restaurant. After finishing our hearty lunch under a covered patio amidst a blooming, bountiful garden, the owners led us through the house, explaining certain household customs and showing off elaborate traditional dress. They even gave us a hands-on demonstration in harvesting corn and cutting grass!

We walked across Bac’s sleepy streets to a Franciscan monastery, where we were welcomed by the local father. With Nada’s help translating, he proceeded to lead us throughout hallowed halls to the most amazing treasure of the monastery, the library! This monastery specializes in preserving and restoring printed books from this region. We all gazed in awe upon the aged volumes in reds, browns, and blues, still glittering with gold embellishments. Dan and I stood shocked by one of the largest dictionaries we had ever seen--reminding us of our collective nerdiness.

After an hour, we emerged from the cool stone walls of the monastery into the blazing heat and humidity of midday. Once again, we trekked across the empty streets, but this time to the remains of a Bac fortification. A local woman unlocked the gate to the refurbished main tour and we climbed a perilous spiral staircase into another cool stone room. As we stared at the old walls and the golden light through the slit windows, we wondered what used to be in this magnificent building. Nada filled our heads with Serbian history, which only added to our dream-like perceptions. As soon as the lecture concluded, we ran like small school children scrambling to take pictures and explore every crevice. 

Finally tuckered out, we boarded the bus headed for the college city of Novi Sad. We all slept soundly until we arrived in the center of Novi Sad in the American Corner, where we were greeted by our new home-stays: Serbian college students who either planned to or had already traveled to the United States. Bethany, Angela, and myself all ended up staying with Olja Jovicki. Olja had one of the biggest hearts, most generous sense of hospitality, and sharpest sense of fashion among anyone I had met so far on this trip. After a homemade dinner of baloney and ketchup pizza (which was quite delicious), we freshened up and dressed for a night out with the other home-stays and our fliblings in the city with the third-best night-life.

Today, we met students with a drive for civic duty greater than our own, geeked out over books, ran like children, and got to stay with generous people. Days like this, still active and full of wonderful people, can replenish my lethargic spirit and body--making me want to stay for hundreds more!

Flinn Scholars

Each summer the Flinn Scholars Program takes an entire class of Scholars to Budapest, Hungary, and neighboring Slovakia and Serbia for a three-week seminar on the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe. Here’s a day-by-day account.

Dominic Chen ('10)

After arriving in Sombor late last night, we awoke to our first morning in Serbia, having spent the night at a dormitory for secondary school students. Breakfast consisted of bread, cheese, honey, sausages, and chamomile tea in the school cafeteria, food that differed significantly from our previous meals in the past few days.

On our way to an introductory lecture at the Town House following breakfast, we were shocked to discover that our bus had been tagged overnight with the word “antifaso” in spray paint, something that we had never experienced before in either Hungary or Slovakia. Perhaps this was a result of our Hungarian license plate, or a byproduct of the heavily graffitied neighborhood that the school was located in, but nevertheless it served as a dramatic introduction to the realities of life in contemporary Serbia. Despite the veneer of modernism and economic development in the past decade, it was quite clear to us that Serbia is still very much a developing country, haunted by both the past shadow of racial tension and the present resurgence of ethnic nationalism. This fact only become more apparent as the day progressed, as some members of our group received hostile stares or derogative comments.

Nevertheless, our experience in Serbia thus far has given us a greater understanding of the history and culture of this region, including the conflicted background of the town between the Hungarians, the Serbs, and the Ottoman Turks. During a scavenger hunt with volunteers from the Youth Office, local students shared anecdotes and experiences, some of which were negatively affected by the government, which reintroduced mandatory theology classes into the school curriculum a few years ago and took bribes for certain jobs.

Following a lunch break at a small Serbian fast food stand by the Old Town Market, we proceeded to a small restaurant located on the bank of the Danube River, Plava Ruza. At this point, we engaged in numerous activities, including swimming, running, and even journaling, providing us with an opportunity to relax in the natural environment and mull over our experienced during the past few days.

This was followed by dinner at the neighboring restaurant, accompanied by a question and answer session with a basketball star from the former Yugoslav National Team now a businessman. His responses emphasized that nationalism and systemic corruption is significantly impeding the socioeconomic development of Serbia, and that these are challenges that must be overcome for accession into the European Union. 

Our last activity was a film screening titled “Once Brothers” that discussed the impact of the Yugoslav Wars on the members of the former Yugoslav National Basketball Team. It revealed that inter-team relationships were broken by ethnic tensions between Serbs and Croats, especially focusing on that between Vlade Divac and Drazen Petrovic. Unfortunately, due to the premature death of the latter in an automobile accident, the pair was never able to reform their friendship, resulting in a bitter competition between the then-newfound Serbian National Team and the remainder of the Yugoslav National Team that lasted to the grave—an indelible mark of past conflicts that continues to influence modern-day Serbia.