Surely none would completely disagree with me if I were to say that a language can mirror a culture. Perhaps you would be skeptical if I were to say that language is culture. I guess that would indeed be pushing it too far. If nothing, you could not deny that language and culture are tightly
I am a provincial girl. I grew up in a small town. The door to the big world opened up pretty late. But it opened with a bang. I hate to admit it, but kitsch still sometimes impresses me, so do the luxurious buildings, lavish things––everything the small town did not have and never will.
A friend of mine happened to have tickets for the Berlin Festival 2013 that was to take place at the famous old Tempelhof airport. As I had never been there before, I decided to go––the fact that there would be concerts and interesting happenings only motivated me more. Little did I expect, however, that the
“My memories are like a shuffled deck of cards, each one coming up at random.” – Brian James This is my first September in Pankow: when I started studying at ECLA three years ago, the classes began in October. This September is awfully similar to an October––perhaps to the October two years ago––the one before
Jelena Barac is an ECLA of Bard BA student who spent the 3rd year abroad at Pontifícia Universidade Católica do Rio de Janeiro When I was little, two ladies that were our neighbors took care of me while my mom was at work. They would feed me delicious smoked bacon, allow me to transform their