My First Midterm Abroad: Chaos at an Argentine University

The past two and a half weeks have been a tough adjustment as I acclimate to college life abroad, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.

I was really worried about having to absorb so much complex information about the history of the National University of Cordoba and the history of psychology in general. We also had the first major exam of the term this past Wednesday, and it turned out to be a rather chaotic experience.

We were all supposed to take the test in a computer lab at different scheduled times throughout the day. Unfortunately, many students did not stick to their assigned times and instead chose to take the test in the evening. This created a massive backlog of students who still needed to take the exam. The problem was that the computer lab was only open until 9 p.m.

I was scheduled to take the test at 7 p.m., but I decided to go 40 minutes early because, if my American upbringing has taught me anything, it’s that it’s better to be early than late. Well, it was a good thing I arrived early because the line was incredibly long.

There must have been a thousand students waiting to take the exam. I’m not exaggerating. After all, there were approximately 3,000 first year students registered in the psychology program in 2014.

By this point, it was almost 9 p.m., and I was getting frustrated. Fortunately, Zach, my ex but forever my best friend, stood in line with me for emotional support.

Then a professor came out and told everyone in line that the computer lab was closed and that we would be taking a written, not computerized, version of the test in a classroom. 

F*cking A!

Before the written exam began, the professor explained that the delay was caused by a number of students who had taken photos of their computer screens during the exam and posted them online in one of the Facebook groups for the psychology program.

Apparently, the professors learned about this around 2 p.m. and shut down the computer lab for about an hour and a half in order to change the questions so that students who had not yet taken the test could not cheat.

With that situation explained, we began taking the test in a non climate controlled (SUPER F*KING HOT) classroom filled with hundreds of noisy students. It was chaos, but despite the stress, I think I retained a reasonable amount of information from my study sessions, as I understood most of the questions. I finished within twenty minutes.

Just as I was about to leave, the lights started flickering, leaving several of my classmates in two separate classrooms without power.

Not surprisingly, the students were furious, and I hope this forces the university to rethink its strategy for administering exams in the future.

Next came the part where we were supposed to receive our results, but that did not actually happen. Those who took the computerized test received their grades immediately, while those of us who took the written version had to wait a few days.

The grading system in Argentina is different from the one in the United States. In the U.S., students are generally graded with the following system:

A – Excellent
B – Good
C – Satisfactory
D – Unsatisfactory
F – Failed

In Argentina, however, the grading scale uses numbers from 1 to 10. To remain in the program, you must earn at least a 4. To move on to the next term, you need a minimum of 7.

When I got home after the test, Zach and I bought a pizza, some ice cream, some cider, which is similar to champagne but cheaper, and some Coke, the soft drink, not the drug. We celebrated the fact that I had made it through the stress of the exam, and it turns out that celebration was justified.

I was expecting to receive my results on Monday, but when I went to class on Friday, I got the surprise of my life and was told that the results were available right then and there.

It turns out that I got a 4, which I admit is not bad considering how many years I have been out of school and the fact that this is my first time seriously applying myself in an academic environment that uses a language I am not fully accustomed to.

So I passed the first test with a 4, but I did not get the 7 I needed. So what happens next? In order to pass the term, I need to take a make up exam for the first test and also earn a 7 on the second exam, which is coming up in about two and a half weeks. It is important that I reach that score on both exams in order to move on to the next semester.

Otherwise, I will have to continue taking a cumulative exam that covers the material from both tests throughout the year until I achieve the required score. This could potentially set me back an entire year, so I know I will have to study harder if I want to pass.

I am not going to lie. I really dislike the way universities here operate. Everything feels sloppy and disorganized, and at times it seems as though the administration and professors expect students to fail. I am still not sure if this university is right for me, but I am going to stick it out for a while and see how things go.

College Life – Week One: Culture Shock Strikes Again

For those of you who’ve been following my blog, enrolling at the public university in Córdoba has been a challenge. Luckily, I got in late last year and officially enrolled for the 2014 school year. The first order of business as a student was a get-together organized by the Psychology Department at the National University of Córdoba (UNC) on Friday, January 31st.

By now, most of you know that I suffer from social anxiety, which makes me act really f*cking awkward during social gatherings. In the past, it got so bad that I didn’t even want to leave the house. Fortunately, I’ve been able to manage it with anti-anxiety medication and the free therapy I’ve received at the public hospital here in Cordoba City.

Even with the meds, I knew I’d feel anxious on my first day of college. Still, I decided to go to the get-together to meet some of my peers. I was hoping to make a friend or two so that when classes started, I’d recognize a few friendly faces. The problem was, it didn’t turn out the way I expected.

For starters, everyone was between the ages of 16 and 23. That alone made it difficult to relate to anyone, since I’m 36 and, honestly, an old soul. Teenagers and young adults in Argentina tend to come across as pretty innocent. By innocent, I don’t mean they’re not prone to excessive drinking, drug use, or even crime in some cases. I mean they’re at that stage in life where they’re still a bit naïve, where the world feels like “Neverland,” with little to no worries.

Oh, how I envy the blindness of youth.

Another factor that made it difficult to connect with my peers was that they were all Argentine. They grew up here and had experiences I simply don’t understand because I wasn’t raised in this country. Trying to share my own experiences felt almost pointless. At best, I got blank stares, and at one point, a smart-aleck remark.

Then there was the slang. The way young adults speak here made it hard for me to follow conversations. Like any culture, Argentines have their own jokes, stories, and creative curse words that I’m not familiar with. Most of the time, I felt completely out of the loop.

The final obstacle I ran into was the mentality of some of the students, and later, even some of the professors. I’ll give you an example. We’re all part of a Facebook group for the 2014 psychology students. Apparently, one student posted a photo of himself relaxing by a pool, barefoot. At the get-together, another student brought it up and started calling him a son-of-a-b*tch for showing off that he has a pool while everyone else is melting in this infernal heat. And no, he wasn’t joking.

From what I’ve seen, a lot of people here seem to be pretty envious of others who have more than they do. To be fair, we’re all a little prone to envy. Hell, I’ve had my moments too. But some of these Argentines seem to take it to another level.

By the time the get-together ended, everyone decided to walk to a nearby restaurant close to campus. I’ll admit, I fully intended to go with them. I even walked behind the group for about ten minutes. Then it hit me that I was the only one no one was talking to. I was alone. Same as always. F*ck. I couldn’t imagine things getting any less awkward once we got to the restaurant, so I turned around and headed for the bus stop. And trust me, no one even looked back long enough to notice I was gone.

I wonder if this is how a ghost feels.

Then came Monday, February 3rd, the first official day of the university’s school year, and it was complete chaos.

There were so many students trying to get into the class that they had to relocate everyone to a larger classroom.

Once we were all settled, a professor walked onto the stage and explained what we could expect from the psychology program. Then a group of students from the CEP, which is basically a student-run activities and advisory group, came by to talk about their experiences at the university. Some of them also started pushing their political agendas, which I’ll get into more in a moment.

Classes at the university are divided into two categories: práctico and teórico. Don’t worry, I’ll explain the difference.

Práctico classes are held on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and take place in a typical classroom setting with about 30 to 35 students. The professor goes over the textbook material and assigns homework and other tasks. During these classes, we’re placed into groups of four or five to encourage interaction. Blah. I hate that so much.

Attendance for Práctico classes is mandatory. Unfortunately, my first one didn’t start until Wednesday, February 5th.

On Tuesday, February 4th, we went to an auditorium known as “El Rectorado.” This is where we attend classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. These are called “Teórico” classes, which basically means they’re lectures.

In these sessions, you just listen to the professor discuss the subject for about two hours and then head home. Attendance isn’t mandatory for Teórico classes, but it’s strongly encouraged since we only get about two and a half weeks before the first midterm exam, known as a “Parcial.”

Teóricos tend to get packed with students, and space is already limited, so we’re encouraged to arrive at the auditorium about an hour before the doors even open. Otherwise you're royally screwed.

The textbook itself is over 400 pages long and covers the politics behind the development of Argentina’s free public higher education system, as well as the history of psychology. I have to admit, even with study groups, I’m finding it really difficult to understand the material.

The truth is, I’ve never really read books in Spanish. I never had to. If you came to my house, every single book and magazine I own would be in English. Even though I can speak Spanish well enough, my reading and writing skills are still pretty basic, and that’s about it.

Trying to read and understand a textbook written in Castilian Spanish has been a major brain teaser. As I worked through it, word for word, sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph, it felt like my mind was sinking into quicksand.

By Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I pretty much had a clear idea of what to expect for the next five years. During the Teórico classes, both the professor and guest lecturers talked about the history and political struggles that shaped the National University of Córdoba. But they also repeatedly criticized how the current economic and political crisis in Argentina is the result of the current president’s regime.

Personally, I hate politics. Still, a lot of the points they made go against everything I believe in. For example, they seem determined to prevent government regulations and sanctions from affecting the university. They encourage students to form these university-style governing bodies where everyone votes. Representatives even come into class at the beginning of lectures to try to sway us to their cause.

This isn’t like student council back in middle school, high school, or college in the States, where it was about organizing a pep rally or a bake sale for a good cause. Here, it feels much more intense. One student representative at UNC openly attacked the Argentine president’s handling of the economy, claiming she cares more about large corporations than small businesses or the Argentine people. She also went after international companies like Chevron and Monsanto. To be fair, Monsanto has been accused of environmental contamination in certain regions, and that part I do understand.

Some of these views seem to stem from the xenophobia that exists in Argentina, along with what I see as an unfounded fear of colonization by countries like the U.K. or the U.S.

I personally support policies that allow large corporations to succeed, because their growth can create jobs and help industrialize the country further. I’m also a strong proponent of international companies operating in Argentina, since they bring jobs, money, and global exposure. But that’s not a perspective I see shared very often here.

And honestly, the entire world is dealing with economic problems right now, including the U.S. It feels short-sighted for Argentines to assume that Argentina’s situation exists in a vacuum or is solely the result of one administration.

This is where I start to feel like the odd one out, because I just don’t see things the way my peers do. There’s free healthcare, free higher education, access to food, and relative peace and quiet most of the time. There are also no mandatory national taxes, only provincial and municipal ones, which are manageable with a steady job. Not many countries can offer all of that.

To me, constant agitation and calls for insurgency just create more problems. But the university environment seems to encourage that kind of mindset, when it should be focusing on education.

I’ve been in Argentina for almost two years now, and I thought I had gotten past the culture shock. But after my first week as a psychology student, it feels like I’m going through it all over again.

I realize that my point of view may offend some Argentines, and that’s not my intention. I’m simply sharing my personal experience as an expat, which is what this blog has always been about. At the end of the day, this is just one perspective, shaped by my own background, experiences, and struggles adjusting to what is obviously a completely different world.