Master of International Affairs

September 3, 2010

On Monday morning I got off the subway at 116th Street and Broadway (why aren’t you a stop on the 2/3 116th??) grabbed a coffee and walked over the SIPA building. The main campus was set up with tent and blue balloons, music playing, and extra-energetic upperclassmen in baby blue t-shirts–it made me so glad that I wasn’t starting as an undergrad all over again.

At SIPA, people were cooler, more collected. So quickly it was clear that everyone has a cool story, an interesting past that led them to this very optional point of furthering their education. The class is nearly half international and almost everyone’s traveled, spent time abroad, did microfinance in India and a stint in the peace corps on the Ivory Coast. People pause when you ask them where they’re from– I’m French, American but grew up in Buenos Aires, and on and on. Languages shift fluidly in the course of conversation. I try to hold my own, sound interesting. I think I’m the girl who was just in Brazil.

We’ve had days of math camp, preparing for the econ and stats classes. There’s been frenzy over creating our schedules, choosing concentrations, registering for classes. And now we have a three day weekend before the madness starts.

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