Touring Italy and Greece: Fear, Sense of Place and Community

Zhang Yuan (Major in Architecture)

This summer, I graduated from Tsinghua University and finished my term as a counselor at Xinya College. The year2020 was ahard time for me. I was supposed to go to the University of Oxford sometime before September, but even now, I still do not know if I will make it. Back in 2014 when I had just been admitted to Tsinghua University, many students were dreaming of studying abroad. So did I, maybe because I was curious about the outside world and tried of following the herd. When applying for my UK visa, I was reminded of the countries I visited during my four-year undergraduate program. However, years later, the pure yearning for foreign countries as a freshman has been woven with a motley assortment of complicated feelings: fear, uncertainty, curiosity about other people, awe of the "sense of place", and love for the community.

The first time I got frightened during a visit to a foreign country was during my junior year when I went on an exchange to Politecnico di Milano. Upon arriving in Italy, I, together with my roommate, boarded a train bound for a rainy Naples. As we stepped out of the railway station and took out our umbrellas, I suddenly felt something strange on the back of my schoolbag. I turned around and saw a tall man unzipping my bag. I screamed "run!" and started running like shot out of a cannon. I did not think to look where my roommate was until I was a long way away. After that, I did not dare carry my bag on my back. In addition to this, as I had been told that the Chinese quarter was not safe, I never went there again, no matter how much I was longing for a taste of home. Dispirited, walking on the wet and bleak roads in the bitter Milan winter, I kept asking myself why I had not just stayed at the safe and familiar Tsinghua. Once, I bumped into a woman on a crowded bus, and although I apologized in Italian several times, she abused at and even hit me. I could not hold back the tears.

Nevertheless, a city has many facets. The Italy I had seen in Architectural History class seemed far away. However, during that year, I would still often find myself with my crumpled map in my hands, trying to locate the buildings I had learned about in class, just so I could see them with my own eyes. Even though I was exhausted from all the walking during my trips to Rome, Florence and Venice, I lingered among the remains of the buildings I had only ever seen in textbooks. The imperfections of a city will emerge if you stay long enough. There is a metro station in Milan infamous for its high crime rate. Stinky blankets covered every inch the rain cannot reach; the damp air was swarmed with the smell of marijuana. I tried my best to avoid it when going out; yet, the Architectural Design course forced me to "live" with the station for 16 weeks. Travelers are often enchanted by beautiful ruins of the Renaissance or the Gothic period. For architects, however, imperfections are often more critical. I still remember what Professor Pier Paolo Tamburell, who taught the course, emphasized — knowing what everyone, including beggars and addicts, in the metro station are doing every hour of every day is a prerequisite for an architect. In Italy, architects have fewer opportunities to work on new projects compared to their counterparts in China, as urban renewal is very slow. I think, however, that only under these conditions can we notice how design affects every individual.

At the end of 2018, I went to Greece with three teachers and 15 studentsenrolling in 2018. Previously, I had always been a follower, but this time, I was made the team leader. The preparation for the journey made me anxious — I did not know how many tasks I should assign to the younger students who were struggling with their final exams, nor was I sure how I should assist the teachers. It is a lot harder to lead a group of people to adapt to a foreign environment than to do it alone. As safety was a top priority, I would count the number of team members countless times and asked them to watch out for thieves and flower sellers, while always trying to keep an eye on them. Not until we had entered the museum or gallery, deposited our bags and decided on the time and place for assembly, I could relax. At the National Archaeological Museum, I was pleased to see students concentrating on making notes and sketches of the sculptures and paintings.

Through the exhibits, it was almost like we got to meet the creators. I still remember that when seeing a small horse with large eyes on a piece of pottery, Ms. Gao Jin commented that it must have been made by a happy craftsman. Ms. Liu Weimo would usually cheerfully explain the mystery of compasses and clocks. Although I cannot remember all of their exquisite designs, I am still filled with admiration for the wisdom of the ancients. At the Heraklion Archaeological Museum in Crete, I sat down on the cold floor and copied a painting of Minoan art. I lost myself in the fantastic scene, feeling as if I was the painter watching the cattle slowly walk by, completely captured by the charm of the seemingly crude patterns. Led by Prof. Li Mu, the students drew or discussed their paintings. Learning from each other probably makes the knowledge more vivid. Personally, I had become more capable of befriending others and joining and developing a community.

During these overseas journeys, what have left me with the deepest impressions are notthemuseums, but the places. On my last day in Greece, I spent the morning alone on Filopappou Hill. The Acropolis of Athens stood in front of me, and I could see people climbing up and down. More than a century ago, Le Corbusier discovered the axis between the Acropolis and the sea. Facing the sea and overlooking the land from a hilltop — the connection between the landscape, the people, and the earth that I felt was something that can only be sensed right there. There I stood, alone, for a long time. Seeing the city below and the ports in the distance, I recalled the temples I had painted and the works of Homer and Plato I had read during my four-year undergraduate course, and I started crying. At that moment, a plump, middle-aged woman approached me, asked how I was, and gave me a hug. I told her everything was fine, and that I was crying because I was overwhelmed with a sudden wave of feelings. Before leaving, I took a picture of a yellow flower with the Parthenon in the distance. Each place has its own way of supporting its inhabitants. Magnificent ruins, messy streets, and grand nature are what make Athens what it is. Uncertainty brought by unfamiliarity diminishes over time, as fear becomes understanding.

In the light drizzle, I traced Parthenon's contour with a pencil, enjoying the breeze at the end of Acropolis. The wet limestone reminded me of my summer vacation at Oxford during my freshman year. The drizzle left wet marks on the stones dotted with dark green moss — somehow, the two countries have a remaking resemblance.

At that time, British people attempted to find the roots of civilization in Athens; today, Chinese students abroad are in a more complicated situation. When abroad, I have felt different senses of place and met a wide range of different people, and after thorough reflection, I was able to fully comprehend the significance of Xinya College and other communities. Now, I am ready to go home.