THROUGH AN ANCIENT PORTAL INTO ANOTHER WORLD
The essays. The intellects. The pubs. Studying – and living – in Europe is a full- on education
Hundreds of thousands of university students have just begun a new term. The modern university traces its origins to 11th century Europe, when young men would gather around eminent scholars as a preparation for a life in the law or royal courts.
The universities that came into being still stand: only now they attract young men and women from all over the globe. As a single example, some 1,600 students out of almost 20,000 at Cambridge in England are drawn from overseas, an increase of around 20 per cent over the past seven years.
Entering these ancient seats of learning can be intimidating enough for a local youth. So what’s the experience like for overseas newcomers? We asked students past and present for their impressions.
Studying abroad had never been on my checklist. After all, I had a stable life in Hong Kong – somehow too stable. So I decided to do something out of my comfort zone.
Bologna is the oldest continuously operating university in the Western world. Alumni range from the poet Dante to designer Giorgio Armani (who studied medicine for two years before dropping out). We spent most of our time in the 16th century villa/campus, where the medieval architecture, paintings and sculptures became part of everyday life.
The constant influx of international students keeps this historical city alive, yet not tourist-crowded. The Quadrilatero area leads to narrow alleys full of hidden gems – including street performers and trattoria. My favourite is the 500-year-old pub Osteria del Sole. It mainly serves wine – a big help in our group project discussions.
Living abroad is never easy, especially in a non-English-speaking country. After taking away our mother tongue, default cultural settings and established successes, what’s left in us to convince the world
– and ourselves – that we’re capable of achieving goals? Only by constantly taking on challenges can we build confidence. This was the greatest lesson that I took away from my beloved Bologna.
In 2017, after graduating from the Chinese University of Hong Kong, I decided to continue my studies in France, a country that I knew only superficially. I had been learning French for a few years but on arriving I was still shocked by the cultural diversity and the unfamiliarity of the cityscape. My Paris was from books and pictures: a romantic capital dominated by 19th century architecture.
But there are also many new buildings which do not follow the same styles of elegance and classicism.
Studying at the University of Paris – better known as the Sorbonne – is both expected and unique. I study things that were unknown to me, such as Arabic philosophy. The orientation of French scholars differs greatly from those in Hong Kong. For example, 17th century theologian Pascal is an important figure in the French intellectual tradition while in the Anglophone world he does not enjoy the same degree of importance. I had to learn the French method: rigorous argumentation and the close reading of texts. I was given tasks called explication de texte, where you are required to break up paragraphs into subparts to analyse the interconnection of ideas. I was taught how to come up with a problématique, a guide for a chain of reasoning that’s essential to academic writings.
Despite the long history and reputation of the Sorbonne, it doesn’t feel elitist. My coursemates and I see each other as intellectual counterparts rather than rivals and we discuss ideas freely and openly. This sense of liberty, equality and fraternity exactly defines the French republican values.
From the Bridge of Sighs at St John’s College to the gothic King’s College Chapel, the medieval university town’s beauty is timeless. You can even rent a punt and go up the River Cam, and walk to the apple tree beneath which Isaac Newton allegedly evolved his theory of gravity. Such wine-fuelled summer afternoons are just some of many memories that are uniquely Cambridge.
Being a student at Cambridge means being surrounded by legends, past and living. One could stay in a room once occupied by Sylvia Plath and drink at The Eagle, where Francis Crick announced the discovery of DNA. I once saw Stephen Hawking going into his favourite Chinese restaurant. You’re just as likely to overhear or have a stimulating conversation in the local pubs as you are in the classroom.
The quintessential student experience at Cambridge, as at Oxford (and Hogwarts), is going to ‘hall’ – formal college dinners, where everyone wears black gowns and sits at long tables in candlelit dining halls after saying grace in Latin.
Cambridge can be strangely hierarchical, with many archaic rules having survived over the centuries. The colleges’ lawns are not to be stepped on – unless you are a Fellow. Once winter hits, it means long nights and a biting wind that whisks in from the distant North Sea. But the rowing crews still get up before 6am to train on the River Cam for the annual, fiercely contested boat race against Oxford, held in London, every spring.
BEING A STUDENT MEANS BEING SURROUNDED BY LEGENDS, PAST AND LIVING