During my semester abroad, not only did I learn vast amounts about another culture, I also met many American university students from all over the country. It quickly became obvious to me why American students abroad are often despised (yes, they are). Their attempts to assimilate into a new culture are usually confined to nightclubs and bars where they sample (heavily) the local alcohol and join the never-ending search for new mates. Although these experiences are certainly part of learning about a new culture, I guarantee you they are not very different from our own, especially when done within a relatively closed group of American students. Think I am exaggerating? Take a look at your friend’s facebook album from abroad. I bet it consists of token tourist sites and inebriated American college students. Am I wrong? If so, your friend is one of the few smart ones.

My destination of choice was Israel. Israel is one of the most interesting and politically complicated places on earth, and what happens in Israel has enormous ramifications for peace and stability in the Middle East as well as the rest of the world. This was especially evident after the latest war with Hezbollah and the constant violence with the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. One would think that any student with the audacity to travel in a country whose daily forecast featured 200 medium range Soviet-made rockets would be cognizant of these issues, and maybe even want to learn more about them. I have to admit that some did, but the overwhelming majority could have cared less.

It is a shame to waste a whole semester in a foreign country. Just because you are American doesn’t mean you MUST fit the stereotype —although I have to confess, I too had many urges to join the nightly bar hop. It is all about making the extra effort to step outside the "token American" group, even if it means putting oneself in unfamiliar and even unsettling situations. For example, I was given the choice of two dorms — one housed only Americans, while the other was regular Israeli students. Needless to say, I chose the latter, while the rest of the Americans chose the former.

At first I was afraid I had made a terrible choice. I saw the Americans quickly befriending one another while I was having trouble meeting people — it seemed like my utopian vision of life abroad was disintegrating faster than the latest Israeli-Palestinian cease fire. But after a rough first couple of weeks, things quickly turned around. For starters, my Hebrew improved tremendously, two levels. Many Americans were surprised when they heard me speaking Hebrew at a much higher level than when I arrived and wondered how this could be. I asked them if they had explained to their Ukrainian born Israeli roommate about American culture, negotiated with him about the cleaning schedule for the apartment, or listened to his stories about the “old days in Ukraine” — in Hebrew, of course. Their responses were no.

So what other benefits come along with making an effort to break away from the American student group? I now have friends from all over the world, whom I might never have encountered had I not deliberately stepped outside my comfort zone. Israel is a unique place that brings together Israeli Jews and Arabs, new immigrants, volunteers, and students from all corners of the earth. Take Moshe (the Hebrew rendition of Moses). Moshe was in fact a 28-year-old South Korean whose real name was too much of a tongue twister for the average Israeli to pronounce. Moshe finished his army service and a bachelor’s degree in Jewish Studies, and then came to Israel to study religion knowing little about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. One day he arrived in the predominately Arab East Jerusalem and tried to speak Hebrew with people on the street. After being cursed at in Arabic English and not understanding why, he decided to change his focus to politics of the Middle East. He now intends to work for the South Korean office of foreign affairs.

I also met Israeli Jews and Arabs who did not often befriend one another. Acting as the American intermediary, there were many gatherings in my apartment of Jews and Arabs together. Both groups admitted they had not had much experience “hanging out” with one another. Because of the new friends I made, I was able to go to the Arab quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem and get an “authentic” experience with Arabs my age, and later that day travel with some Israeli friends to their homes in Tel-Aviv. I even befriended some Armenian Christian teenagers from the old city of Jerusalem who showed me Jerusalem in a completely new light. Not only did they teach me that in Armenian a polite way to greet someone is to say “let me eat your liver my brother,” their fluency in Hebrew, English, and Arabic combined with their political neutrality gave them a unique perspective on life in Israel.

When studying abroad, the opportunities available are tremendous, but just being geographically situated in a new country is not enough. One has to take initiative and seek out new experiences. Often university students are accused of living in their own little bubble, unaware of the world around them. Isn’t the point of going abroad for a semester exactly to escape that bubble? At my program they did not, and that’s a shame — but that was their problem, not mine. I hope I can dissuade some of you from taking the role of the token American too.

David Greenky is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at dsg36@cornell.edu. Guest Room appears periodically.