I was totally blown away this morning in my photo editing class. We were reviewing one another’s video work and the quality of the videos produced by my classmates — some of them are undergraduates — was just amazing.

At the beginning of the semester, I was upset that the size of the class is way too big for a graduate course, which I still hope the college can do something about for future students. We had to split the class into two sessions -  very inconvenient for both the professor and the students. However, the popularity of the class indicates a certain amount of need, and the need is compatible with the desired skills that a photojournalist should acquire before entering this field. I was sorry for the oversized class, but I was surprised to find out that after a whole semester’s struggle, we beautifully survived. So many talented work evolved and my eyes grew wide with excitement. We also took advantage of this opportunity to team up with some undergraduates, which personally turned out to be a pleasant experience. Check out some of the videos here, here, and here . View with full screen mode, please!

It might not yet be professional or perfect, but for someone who learned the techniques for the first time, this is a promising start. I used to keep myself away from video, because as a photojournalist, I’m always longing for sharpness, high quality images and the “decisive moment,” which cannot be well represented in videography. But time has changed, technology has made high-end video cameras cheaper and cheaper while the public has shown increasing interest in video stories in recent years. If still photography is more or less a product of the print era, video seems naturally existing for the digital era. Needless to say, traditional print journalism is facing a historic challenge nowadays (some website even began to make fun of how to recycle newspaper boxes). The following picture from Boston Globe now vividly reminds us of a nostalgic print era.

The convergence of media has made the distinctions between broadcast journalism and photojournalism disappear quickly and being able to make videos seems to be a must-have skill for young photojournalists who want to pursue a career in any related field. Some journalist in Scotland was even suspended by the organization he worked for just because he refused to shoot video. We do spend a lot of time getting familiar with all kinds of digital toys in class, and I believe many print journalism majors have to learn how to use these tools as well.

The photojournalism curriculum seems highly concentrated on teaching the digital tools, which I hope will benefit graduates. However, I’m still nervous about entering the job market as the program has only two weeks left. Maybe I’m not the only one puzzled by the question of mastering the tools versus mastering the art of storytelling. In my heart, it’s the latter that matters more, so I’m not a big fan of becoming a jack-of-all-trades. But since the importance of video and other tools are so overwhelming, to spend time and money on it seems an inevitable choice for most of us. The problem lies in how you balance the time invested in the two parts. Now I find myself stuck in the trap of learning the tools instead of pursuing the stories. In Chinese, there’s a word called 本末倒置，roughly translated as “to put the cart before the horse” – that’s what I’m feeling one month before I’m graduating from this program.

When I was reviewing my multimedia portfolio with a professor, he told me that the potential readers wouldn’t be interested in why my classmates wanted to become photojournalists, or how the economy has affected students’ lives, etc. (Those are the multimedia pieces I did over the past three months for in-class exercises.) I know it might not be of enormous interest to others, but it’s the only thing I got so far. Just like most of the students, we have three different shooting classes this semester, which requires us to constantly move around. The courses also require me to learn QuarkXpress, FinalCutPro, Dreamweaver, Illustrator, Audacity and InDesign… to name a few (phew!). So when will I have time to follow an in-depth story that is exquisitely produced by the new media I’m not yet familiar with? We did some simple topic just because we want to spend time on getting familiar with tools, and now I know a little bit about every new tool, just I’m still not confident enough about my ability to produce a high-quality multimedia story.

This morning’s peer work review somehow gave me some hope. Although we are fledgling photojournalism students without rich experience, there’s such energy and potential in most of us. The choice between learning all the tools and concentrating on the basics is still haunting me. Maybe you will have an answer?

Although I’ve been constantly amazed at how much Boston can show me in one academic year, I never imagined anything close to this: a pillow fight? When I learned of it on Twitter, I thought it was a joke or at least that not many people would join it. Obviously, I was totally wrong. Boston ranks as the second pillow-fightingest among more than 70 other cities on World Pillow Fight Day. 

That Saturday morning I was on a shooting assignment near Government Center. On my way home, I saw some people carrying pillows at the subway station. This immediately raised my curiosity as I realized that what I’d heard was not a prank. I approached a girl with pillow in hand and asked her about the fight. She introduced herself as Sarah, and she told me that she came all the way from Connecticut to participate. Maybe it was because of the excitement evident in her voice, but I decided to join the fray. Now I feel so lucky that I didn’t miss it!

We went to Quincy Market to have lunch, and it was totally packed… maybe because it’s the weekend, maybe because a fair number of the visitors here were on their way to the Christopher Columbus Park, where the pillow fight would take place. Anyhow, I examined every suspicious passerby with stuffed backpack, and I tried to imagine how many people were actually going to show up for the fight. This event is way more serious than I thought, and it was huge. According to Banditos Misteriosos, more than 1,100 participants were there, as were tons of photographers and reporters.

After a lunch sitting on the ground in the crowded Quincy Market food court, Sarah took out the team T-shirt that she designed specifically for this fight. Their team is named “The Pink Pillow Punisher” and therefore the shirts and pillow cases are all pink. At this point, I was totally beyond myself. I couldn’t wait to see what the other teams had in store. We arrived the park 40 minutes before the scheduled starting time. Sarah said that everyone should look inconspicuous until the starting signal. How could one possibly look inconspicuous? On this chilling, rainy, muddy day in this windy park near the sea, how many of those walking around with big bags could actually be innocent tourists? No way! As time passed, the park grew crowded, and obviously not many people followed the rules. There are pillows everywhere! Sarah’s pink team started to warm up and change into team shirts a few minutes before the starting point, and they looked nervous. 

Suddenly, a masked man with a colorful flag started to run around when an incredible loud siren broke the silence. The crowd, including men and women, old and young, all instantaneously ran after the flag man to the center of the park and started to… fight! I was so excited at this point, and I rushed into the center of the fight without fear. That was so heedless. Although the rules said no one should attack anyone with a camera or without a pillow, people were too crazy to observe any rule at that moment. I was repeatedly stepped, punched, pushed or hit with pillows. Sometimes it really hurt, and I had to stop taking pictures until the pain went away. 

Hundreds of cameras propped up during the fight. Eventually there were only two kinds of people in the park: those who were documenting and those who were being documented. Everyone seemed to enjoy the process, including me. At first I thought this was a crazy little game that would attract no more than a dozen participants, but it turned out like a sweet dream. Just as one fighter told me, it’s like going back to childhood again. That’s true, in this special time and under the gloomy economy, entertainment and break are particularly needed to release pressure.  

The whole fight lasted about one hour, and several times I lost track of my pink team as the fight became so fierce that it was impossible to follow them around. Maybe it’s because Boston has a large population of students that this became one of the biggest fights among others. Anyhow, the pillow fight game is now on my list of must-sees in Boston. If I’m lucky enough to come back, I’ll make sure next time there’s a pillow in my hand.

One day I was at Starbucks discussing photo assignments with a classmate when a customer sitting nearby suddenly cut in and turned to me: China took so much money from us, now we have huge debts. “Excuse me?” I was taken aback by such unexpected interruption and tried to avoid conversation.This angry stranger might have some personal financial problem, but I’m afraid I can’t agree with him on dumping the cause of this misery to China. Actually it is not the first time that I’ve heard such comments, thanks to the power of media, tirelessly bombing me with the allegation of China’s prosperity trampling on America’s economy.

It’s true that tons of factories popped up in China in recent decades. The cost of becoming world’s factory includes producing an incredible amount of trash and sacrificing millions of workers’ rights. Though government has huge responsibility for that, foreign demands more or less boost such a craze. Actually, in order to make money and improve life, many Chinese have no choice other than taking up labor-intensive jobs. Some countries blame China for taking their manufacturing jobs, but China wouldn’t have to do that if she were able to export technologies, blockbuster films, or popular chain restaurants. The poor Chinese are working hard to support Americans’ standard of living. The most ironic thing is, China lends the money back to America and it gets misused. So China gets blamed for heedless lending. How ridiculous is that?

Today’s danger is not that China is becoming America’s banker, but that America is indulging in finding excuses rather than examining itself. If China is the problem, kick us away, and let other developing countries fill in our shoes, becoming your next banker. The truth that China is becoming the world’s factory is rooting from the power of globalization, and now as unemployment rises and exporting slumps, China must shift from low-end industry to a more sustainable track. On this point, the Chinese people have long looked up to their American fellows. On the other hand, I cannot help but think of some merit of our culture that is absent here. Frugality is one of them.

When I first arrived here, I was always asked what’s my first impression about this country. It’s true that I’m overwhelmed by its size, diversity and modernity, but there’s one thing that makes me uncomfortable — the waste. The ubiquitous paper cups and free plastic bags (I’ll be charged if I want a plastic bag while shopping in Shanghai), the overheated rooms or freezing air-conditioning in the summer, the always lighted rooms and buildings and lobbies, the oversized everything in the supermarket, etc. There’s a saying that if all Chinese people live the same life as Americans, we will need seven more earths to provide the resources.

Of course we cannot afford seven earths (so far), so we have to make tough decisions dealing with it. Lack of resources teaches us to make full use of everything (though we have a long way to go) and now instead of exploring more resources, perhaps it is time for America to encourage something called thrift as well? There are tons of cheap products in America’s malls and markets sent from China; the overwhelming consumerism culture is always in the air. Those two factors contribute to probably the most heedless consumers in the world, the Americans. You buy more. You order more. You order more. We make more. We make more. You buy more. It’s never ending.

Personally, coming here has been a truly an eye-opening experience. I feel guilty when think about my parents spending so much money on me  for graduate school, but to live a life that I’ve never lived before helps me open my eyes as well as my mind. As to the Sino-U.S. relations, which I’ve never paid so much attention as I am now, I believe cooperation is the best and maybe the only way to work out for both sides.

Last week I took a trip to Costa Rica with  my host family, who kindly invited me to join their vacation. Since this Central American country has numerous attractions, and the temptation to escape Boston’s winter was almost irresistible, I excitedly accepted the generous offer. The trip took one week and all of us found it enjoyable, so I want to share my experience with anyone who plans to travel during the coming spring break and hasn’t yet decided on a destination. For most international students, you can use the F1 visa to enter Costa Rica for a month, which saves the trouble of applying for a travel visa of this country. But remember to get a travel signature before departure. If you already got this not long ago (e.g. if you go back home for winter break), you don’t have to get another one as the signature is good for one year.

We used Frommer’s as our guide and followed it to a hiking route, restaurant, hotel, and other tourist attractions. I’ll briefly introduce the amazing places that I recommend, emphasizing what’s special about this trip to me and my second family, so that I don’t appear like a travel agent. If you are looking for specific information, make sure to check out the professional travel books and websites for more accurate and comprehensive introductions.

Usually tourists fly to Atlanta and take another 3.5-hour flight to San José (Costa Rica, not California). Tickets can be bought at Studentuniverse, Kayak, etc. Then we took a three-hour ride to the Arenal Volcano – the most active volcano in Costa Rica. Usually it is surrounded by clouds, but during the three days of our stay, we had two full, bright days to view the whole volcano. How lucky for us. We stayed in Montana De Fuego Inn that has a villa layout, and the room had a Jacuzzi tub. At night, the volcano’s rumbling is clear. On clear nights, the sky full of stars. As a city dweller for more than 20 years, I’m enchanted by such natural beauty.

During the day, we rode horses, hiked, and visited a hot spring. Costa Rica is famous for its natural beauty and wild life, so hiking is a very enjoyable way to meet the cute animals. The whole country itself is like a big zoo with lots lots of colorful and amazing animals that you don’t really have to visit a national park to watch. Most important of all, they are extremely friendly and intrepid with human beings. The sloth is unquestionably one of the most popular mammals in Costa Rica.

Horseback riding was the highlight of the trip for me. We chose a route that has a full view of the volcano and a gorgeous prairie. Passing through brooks, hills and roads, finally we came to an incredible waterfall hidden behind the mountain. Before heading back, many people changed into their swimming suits and played under the waterfall for a while.

In the evening, we went to a little downtown area for some local food. There are so many nice restaurants around, such as Lava Lounge, and a pizza place near Vienna Café. Delicious. A main course may cost around $10, which is 5,500 colones. Yes, 550 colones equals 1 U.S.D., so when you see a bill of 50 thousands, don’t panic… it’s a hundred dollars. Using a VISA card can withdraw local currency from an ATM, but American dollars are accepted almost everywhere.

The local people were so friendly and hospitable. Everyone seems so proud of their country and eager and ready to introduce everything they know about Costa Rica to visitors. All those who work in the tourism industry have an undeniable quality of being self-motivated and service-oriented. You cannot help but appreciate them.

There are many European tourists hanging around downtown. Many more than you can see near the beach, where almost everyone you bump into comes from either Canada or the States. We headed to the Pacific coast to stay near famous beaches for surfers. After a three hour drive, we arrived at Hotel Club Del Mar, which I personally have to highly recommend. It’s just by the beach and the houses are very nicely decorated. At night, the sound of waves put me to sleep like a lullaby. So I spent the rest of the vacation lying under the sun, reading and indulging myself in some luxurious BIG THOUGHTS about life. Yes, getting so used to daily trivial matters and hectic life, I almost never have time to look back or forward, taking care of the present is all I’m driven to. It’s really nice to take a break like that when you leave the worries behind, enjoy nature and the time with friends and family.

Taken as a whole, if you love nature, enjoy hiking, surfing, and watching animals, Costa Rica is a place you should not miss.

This semester I’m taking a required course, Professional Portfolio — a course of vital importance to any aspiring future photojournalist who wants a good job. In addition, there are two other photography requirements I have to take. Basically, this means I’m shooting all the time. Two months ago I was complaining about being overwhelmed with writing courses and assignments that distracted me from taking pictures on a regular basis. Now I have gone to another extreme. But it’s not too bad; so far I have enjoyed most of it.

Not until this semester was I able to meet all the other graduate students in this program (because of a time conflict, I was in an undergraduate class last semester). I was so excited to meet them and to see their work and to talk about photography. On the Chinese New Year’s Eve (last Sunday) we hung out in Chinatown to celebrate (it was so nice of them to do this with me) and to take pictures. We talked about every random thing and drew the same conclusion by saying that “it can be a nice photo story, blah, blah, blah.” That’s true. Now I have the constant urge to look for a story. It reminds me my scientist friend, who also likes to cook. Before she serves every dish, she has to try it first. She calls this ritual “QC” (quality control), as in, “Wait, let me QC.” Just as she does in the lab. For photojournalism students, if we keep track of our daily conversations, we might come up with this list of most frequently used words: shoot, picture, story, one person, due on **day, etc.

Now I officially beginning my bittersweet honeymoon with photography. Approaching things with different angle and fresh eyes has become an unconscious act, and my brain is automatically generating a “viewfinder” all the time. One of my favorite books about photography is John Szarkowski’s (the former director of photography at the Museum of Modern Art) The Photographer’s Eye.

I hardly understood the book two years ago, but now it is beginning to make sense as I’ve gained more experience. On frame, it says “The photographer edits the meanings and patterns of the world through an imaginary frame. This frame is the beginning of his picture’s geometry. It is to the photograph as the cushion is to the billiard table.” The imaginary frame is truly becoming an indetachable part of my way approaching the world.

After a daylong trip — 17 hours on the plane, two hours on the road, five hours in the airport — I’m finally standing in front the house where I lived last semester. The three-week holiday at home was sweet and unforgettable, especially after being away for a long while at school.

During the winter break, I spent most of my time in Shanghai. My life took a different track: I didn’t drink any coffee (no need for a caffeine jolt); I didn’t check NYTimes.com or Boston.com on a daily basis (shame on me); I didn’t speak English; I ate Chinese food almost everyday – sometimes Japanese, or Thai, or Korean; I rode my bicycle; I paid for the plastic shopping bags; I snapped pictures all the time, but I didn’t rush to edit them; I bought the latest Hollywood movies from vendors on the street for $1 USD each; I complained about the gray sky and overcrowded subway; I missed the soup and brownie I enjoyed in Boston; I drank milk, regardless of its bad reputation; I wandered the around streets of Shanghai and found a shop named ‘BU’.

Speaking of Shanghai, you might not be able to point it out on a world map, but I’ll bet you’ve sampled its cuisine — Shanghai is famous for its dumplings. I had some in Chinatown here, but it’s usually not authentic. Anyone who is passionate about Chinese food should seriously think about traveling to China and try what local people have.  As for me, the happiest part of my body while at home was unquestionably my stomach.

Another favorite of mine is Hong Kong milk tea, which I miss a lot while I am here. There are many Hong Kong dining places in Shanghai. Among those, I favor the afternoon tea places, which are seemingly on every corner. You can have some milk tea and dim sum with friends on a sunny afternoon for reasonable price (around $4 USD per person).

Vacations always seem too short. Now I am back to school, there’s so much waiting to be done before I graduate this May. Better to forget the comforts and indulgence of the past month and get ready to go!

In a matter of hours I’ll be boarding the plane taking me home to China. I feel unexpectedly sentimental as I write this. It’s not that I don’t miss home – I can’t wait to see my family and friends. The thing is, I’m so used to everything here, and now it’s going to be sad to leave the surroundings that I’ve finally become familiar with. I’ll definitely miss my classmates, professors, and — especially — my host family.

It’s been an eventful semester, and so many things happened over the past few months.  In retrospect, I’m full of gratitude. What can I say? I took JO 721, which was a very challenging course, especially for those whose first language is not English. I survived. Every classmate I met was so smart, kind and ready to offer help. The professors were nice and patient — sometimes demanding, but I surely needed a healthy push. The family I lived with was extraordinarily generous and interesting. They introduced a lot of American culture to me and took me to see many Boston sites. The city is so rich in culture and history that I took great pleasure in exploring it after school.

I have taken five courses this semester, one of which was a special studies course that was not graded. It was a special course designed to help international students to overcome the difficulties met in other courses. For example, if we had problems in media law class, we could bring them into this special study class. The professor, Chris Daly, together with other international students, would offer some hints. During the last meet-up, we changed the regular venue to Z-Square, which is a restaurant located in the graduate students’ dormitory. Chris treated us with a fabulous brunch, and we talked about what we learned this semester. Everyone agreed that it’s been an eye-opening experience, but it was also a very exhausting semester. The master’s program in Journalism ranges from a year to a year-and-a-half. It’s quite intensive compared to programs that are two years or longer. After came here, I picked up the habit of drinking coffee, which I seldom drank before. Now I’m almost addicted.

On the day that I finished my last class, my host family gave me a pleasant surprise — which drove me to tears. The parents came home from work late at night, and it was such a nice thing for them to think about me after a whole day of work. They prepared several gifts, including a book for me to read on the plane, a box of chocolate, fancy lemonade (since I don’t drink alcohol, lemonade has become my favorite beverage), and other stuff. I was so surprised when the little son, in his pajamas, was singing with his mother, holding all those gifts and walking toward me. 

Yes, it’s over. Bittersweet. It marked an important part of my life. Looking back, I don’t know how to express my gratefulness for everything I have experienced. Perhaps not finding the right words is the best proof that the right words have already been said. So I’ll just stop here, go back and enjoy my holiday at home, take a lot of pictures and see you next year!

It was great.

Thanksgiving is a very AMERICAN holiday, and obviously it’s not celebrated in China. Luckily I’m living with an American family, so I happened to have a typical Thanksgiving dinner last week. The five-day holiday was very relaxing.

Here are three highlights from my first Thanksgiving break in America:

First, I had a friend visit me from upstate New York. She’s also a journalism graduate student. She came two days before BU’s holiday started, so I took her to one of my classes on Monday. I asked my professor for permission beforehand, and I was told that my friend would be welcome to join our class. The class is JO721, a core course for all journalism majors. It used to be my headache as English is my second language, and I didn’t quite understand why photojournalism students should spend so much time on learning how to write a story instead of two or three sentences of captions. But now I have a lot of fun during this class, and I felt my friend might enjoy it as well.

As it was near Thanksgiving, the class was not very intensive compared to what we usually have. We talked about ethics instead of writing in this class. We were divided into four groups and had a brainstorm class of journalism ethics based on a true story. It was so much fun. My friend was totally overwhelmed and told me that she liked the class a lot. It’s even better than what she had at her school. I also got accepted to this school, but I chose BU as I prefer its location. Her remarks made be feel lucky that I made a wise choice. One thing in particular she pointed out was that we had a comparatively smaller class. My friend said her classes sometimes have more than 40 students, and it’s very difficult to initiate discussion for such a big group. My BU classes tend to have 15 students or fewer.

The second highlight of my holiday was the Thanksgiving dinner.

We had a “big bird.”  The first month that I came here, Professor Chris Daly invited all international students to his house for a turkey meal, which was fantastic. When Thanksgiving was approaching, I was excited to try it again. I’m lucky to stay with an American family, in this way I got more of chance to learn the culture, and Thanksgiving is an important part of it.

I helped to make the pumpkin pie and other desserts, and we started to prepare for the meal on the night before the holiday.My host family was also very generous and kind to ask my Chinese friends to come over and join us. “No one should be left alone on Thanksgiving,” they said. It was just sweet. So I invited a girl I met during orientation who comes from the same city as I do, and another high school classmate who happens to attend MIT. So, it was nice to have friends around to share the happiness of the holiday.

Thanksgiving is about more than family and food. It’s also about expressing gratitude. During the dinner, everyone talked about what (s)he was most grateful for during the last year: to keep a job under the current recession, to have a chance to pursue overseas studies, to have a healthy life and nice family… every sentence kept reminding me that I am lucky.

The last highlight of my Thanksgiving break was a visit to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Mass. There is a special exhibition that my host family took me to called Yin Yu Tang, a late Qing Dynasty house which was moved all the way from China to America. Every piece of the house was taken apart and shipped to the museum. Then the house was rebuilt here. As I hail from the eastern part of China, I’m familiar with that kind of architecture. The tour of the house took me back to China in my mind. What a wonderful trip it was.

That’s my first Thanksgiving experience, and I’m already looking forward to the next one!

The recent Los Angeles wildfires remind me of an acquaintance living there. I lost touch with her for almost half a year. She helped me decide to come to Boston.

I met her at the beginning of this year, as the biggest snowstorm in 50 years buried Shanghai. I would be her personal assistant. She was a successful costume designer from Hollywood, and she had worked on tons of films and was nominated twice for an Academy Award. She must have had numerous assistants. I could tell right away that she was unimpressed with me. She wore in a shiny gold vest and sat by her desk. She cast a glance at me and immediately moved to other things. I was just an inexperienced college student who accidentally fell into this job. I had no clue what lay ahead of me.

In the following months, I almost never satisfied her needs. The feeling of frustration overwhelmed me. I thought she was a picky and arrogant artist, and that made her difficult to get along with. The only moment she smiled and hugged me was the day that I told her that I would go to BU. She excitedly told me that her sister, who is a judge, also went there. However, I lost contact with her about six months ago. I recently realized how important her influence was upon my life.

I see many precious qualities of an artist in her. Although her perfectionism can be annoying and troublesome to others, I envy her compulsiveness.

The first impressive quality is her habit of putting work at the top of her priority list. She can get as little as three hours of sleep (or even no sleep at all) for many days and still be energetic during the day. I never heard her talking about holiday. Even when we went out on weekends, she kept looking for ideas and talking about work. When something related to work occurred to her, she would immediately stop whatever was at hand and go right back to work.

If we were watching Peking Opera, she would study the costumes rather than enjoy the story. If we went shopping, she would always buy something for the film rather than for herself. I was constantly amazed by her endless passion for her job. Only after meeting her did I realize that I have never truly dedicated myself to anything.

Although she was a demanding person that annoyed me from time to time, there were certain moments that I felt she was the most adorable person in the world. For example, on a freezing February morning I saw her standing alone in the wind looking at something. It was the ashes of firecrackers that people burned the night before, which was Chinese New Year’s Eve. She was so obsessed with the ashes that she forgot the time until co-workers dragged her back to the office. “What exactly were you doing?” we asked. “It was beautiful!” she said, and she tried to get rid of us so that she could go back to the ashes. She is three times my age, but she is younger than I am in heart.

When she heard that I had a thing for photography, she took it seriously and recommended many schools to me. She criticized my way of treating my portfolio — in an indifferent and careless way. She showed me how she treated her work — with diligence.

She once asked me if I would visit her after I came to Boston, and I feel guilty that I haven’t contacted her in the past three months. But I’ve been thinking about her constantly. I reference her way of doing things in my own work. She is a role model and a source of inspiration.

I was deeply sorry to hear about the wildfires, and the first thing came to my mind was her condition. I wish soon I could see her again, bringing my best work and what I’ve learned here with me so I could show her how she had influenced me in a positive way.

The semester is more than half-over, and I’m getting more and more used to everything here. A telling sign: A routine phone call home that used to last 30 minutes has devolved to short sentences: “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. Everything’s good! I’m so busy! Listen, I have to go now, bye!” Life is easier, but school is not.

My friends sometimes call me asking if I have fun here in Boston. Of course I do not. There’s plenty of fun to explore, only I don’t have time. My program is one year, needless to say, it’s very intensive. Sometimes I regret taking four courses this semester.

There is one course in particular that has been a nightmare for the last two months: Foreign Reporting. It’s an interesting course, but fun it’s not. Not for me, at least. The cost is incredible: nearly 20 books to read (excluding newspaper and periodicals). The workload is heavy: memorize the world map (including the Antarctic), seemingly endless writing assignments and two main writing projects. Every time I walk into class I feel my brain on the verge of exploding.

If to memorize nearly 200 country names and to read books on topics ranging from Middle East war fields to South American jungles has not killed me yet, the immigrant story might be the last straw. I can stay up all night to read, but I can’t find someone who is an ideal subject for an immigrant story — considering that I’m here just 60 days and most of the time I’m confined to either classroom or home. Where can I find this newsworthy immigrant who is also willing to share a personal story with me in order to finish this 2,500-word feature story, which also should be able to reflect my empathy toward another culture? To understand America is already a journey of exploring empathy for me. Now I have to examine the immigrant’s experience under the lens of American culture upon my interpretation.

It’s not easy to approach immigrants. There are a lot of immigrants in this area, but to find a subject for your reporting is a completely different thing. My boldest attempt has been to wait outside the Social Security Administration office and to approach people on their way out.

Sometimes I feel that I can spend the whole semester taking just this course, so that I can spend more time on interviewing, detail checking, reference searching, and do a better job on reading assignment quizzes (which I usually mess up) and map quizzes.

After the mid-term of Media Law, I was hoping to take a break and have some fun. Unfortunately, most of my final papers are due in three weeks. Apart from the immigrant story (which is still in the air) and a media law paper, I also have to prepare for the photography final project. STORY! STORY! STORY!  I’m thirsty for story ideas and subjects everyday.

The thing is, it takes time to approach people before they feel comfortable enough to reveal themselves; but my overloaded schedule tends to sap the energy out of my news-gathering. C’est la vie.

Have I learned? Yes, it’s been an eye-opening experience over the past two months, but the pressure is real. My host family once joked with me saying that I picked a very interesting year to come to the United States: the presidential campaign, the economic crisis, etc. That’s true. If given another chance, I would still choose to come. But right now, I’m still plodding at the endless assignments and dreaming of a long, long winter holiday without deadline pressure.