No Exit. So laments Jean Paul Sartre in his famous play, written in the 1930s. Similarly, student life at Harvard manifests this same existential predicament; there is no exit beyond Johnston or Thayer Gates.

Thus, those who break loose, transcending our iron cage, (and not just for spring break) often encounter a whole host of new experiences and perspectives.

In the past weeks, this column has recorded the active student voices resounding on campus. "Activity," however, when interpreted broadly, often entails internal personal growth and occurs in a variety of geographical locations. Whether studying for credit at foreign universities or traveling throughout South Asia, Harvard students abroad undoubtedly undergo tremendous personal transformation.

Although they are mountain climbing in Nepal, enjoying siestas in Sevilla, Spain, exploring Aztec ruins in Mexico or savoring crepes in Paris, these adventurers are currently only an e-mail message away.

For some, total cultural immersion clarifies what they appreciated about life back home, even the academic intensity. Javier Casillas '00, currently studying in Madrid, Spain, at La Universidad Complutense, waxes nostalgic for Harvard classes.

In Spain "they are taught with an excessive emphasis on memorization and with a lack of a critical viewpoint," Casillas wrote in an e-mail message.

"Rather than being provided with theories about stipulated facts, you are mostly just provided the facts," he added.

A Moveable Feast. In general, classroom learning is almost an afterthought for Americans studying abroad. As the generations of American expatriates, from Ernest Hemingway to Gertrude Stein, Class of 1898, to F. Scott Fitzgerald would attest, intellectual stimulation and creative inspiration are inherent in any foreign experience.

When I was in France this summer, I learned more from perusing the bouquinistes (the used book sellers that line the Left Bank of the Seine) than I did during a whole semester of French literature.

A Hundred Years of Solitude. Like Garcia Marquez, students abroad attempt to cultivate quiet spaces amidst their surroundings for contemplation. They often adopt a slower, relaxed schedule for the first time. Solitude can provide time for observing one's surroundings and contemplating existential questions, rather than incurring loneliness.

Sarah H. Winkeller '00 has embraced the mantra articulated the first day of classes by her Spanish history teacher in Sevilla Spain. Describing the philosophy of Andalucia, the southern region of Spain, he said, Trabajar para vivir, no vivir para trabajar."

Translated, "people here work to live, not live to work."

"I would like to take that philosophy back to Harvard with me. People here know how to enjoy life," Winkeller wrote in an e-mail message. An attempt to enhance one's quality of life often means a more relaxed pace.

Nectar in a Sieve.

Aesthetic appreciation and awareness is often part of the transformative foreign experience. Although in the current techno-capitalist society of modern America, "quality of life" is often measured in output (and appropriated by grades or high salaries), "quality" abroad refers to the direct, titillating effect of sights, smells and tastes.