Title: Lessons and Global Perspectives from a Friday Dinner Series Abroad

Isabela McNeilly-Anta (SFS’27) is a Georgetown Storyteller and junior in the School of Foreign Service studying international political economy with a certificate in international business diplomacy and a minor in French. She is from New Jersey and spent the fall semester studying abroad at SciencesPo Paris.

Returning to the Hilltop, I examine my past four months studying at Sciences Po Paris. Suffice it to say, there was plenty to love — courses ranging from European Defense to Geopolitics of the Middle East, jogs along the Seine and the mandatory walk-to-school croissants. Yet the defining dimension of my study abroad was my friend group: sixteen students hailing from every corner of the globe.

Meeting during orientation week, we gathered for our first Friday in the City of Light: dinner at Bouillon Chartier — a Parisian favorite serving student-priced French classics. Crowded around a long table, we pledged to reunite the following weekend, at the invitation of Kaishi, who promised a sushi masterclass. Little did we know this tradition would continue the entirety of our exchange semester, each Friday night an homage to one of our home countries. This blog is dedicated to our group— the Friday Slatts (slatt being the Swedish word for “the last drop”) — forever immortalized in my camera roll, playlists and new favorite cookbook. Here is what I learned from our time together. 

My Expectations for Studying Abroad in Paris

How much can one truly know about another country? Arriving in France, I felt pretty confident. With six years of language classes, three summer immersions and a French minor under my belt, Paris was familiar — safe terrain for a semester abroad. I arrived determined to refine what I already knew, to perfect my accent and master their political history. That, at least, was the plan.

Breaking into French social circles would prove challenging. My “euro-adventure” was their full-time life– complete with established friend groups, part-time jobs and assignment deadlines.  At the end of the day, I was an “outsider,” a temporary addition to their continuum. And yet, as fortune would have it, I found my people on day one: the foreign exchange students.

The Dinners

Representing three continents and nine countries, each week was a trip around the world. From handmade focaccia barese to Mid-Autumn Festival mooncakes and even jägerschnitzel, every feast reflected hours of preparation and a deep love for home. Admittedly, some foods required tact or instruction — the pickled fish and knäckebröd our Swedish friends offered as an appetizer, the pani puri we kept dropping on ourselves or the tortilla de patatas Naman expertly flipped. Yet without fail, silence would fall across the room when our chefs cleared their throats to explain each dish’s recipe and significance. In a way, we’d returned to kindergarten, impatient to experience uncharted cultures our peers called home. 

Before I knew it, my self-imposed mission of mastery wasn’t on France at all — the syllabus had expanded to the world beyond.

Of course, our travels didn’t stop at the dinner plate — every Friday, we blasted top hits from Sweden, China or Spain. Language was no object. Like clockwork, it devolved into 2010s pop at midnight, at which point we’d lean into the familiar tunes of Katy Perry and Pitbull, shamelessly singing the wrong lyrics at the risk of a noise complaint. Entertainment was another key facet of our cultural exchange — we learned Bollywood choreography, competed in Milan-style runway walks during heated Italian Jeopardy, and sat through PowerPoints about train schedules and why Bayern Munich is the superior Champions League team (in true, orderly German style).

Occasionally, we blended traditions, many experiencing their first Friendsgiving dinner, allowing me to say grace as we held hands, and then went around the circle sharing what we’re grateful for. Our Christmas party had a strict festive-sweater dress code, and after dinner we opened secret Santa gifts on the floor of our favorite 14th arrondissement apartment, passing around gingerbread cookies.

As the weeks went by, we grew comfortable teasing stereotypes — poking fun at my tendency to add “highkey” before every sentence, German punctuality and Alessandra’s Italian love for hand gesticulation.

In more tender moments, we addressed the political realities of our homes and dismantled manufactured divides. Aileen and Jules, from China and Taiwan, prepared over 300 dumplings by hand — yes, I take credit for world peace. I entered friendly debates with environmentalist friends about America’s car-dependent culture and off-season farming, and once, when left alone at a table with Italians, Japanese, and Germans, cracked a joke about standing my post against the Axis Powers.

In all seriousness, my companions’ sincerity encouraged me to adopt a culture of openness, allowing me to see the world through shoes I had never stepped into before. I reconsidered my understanding of love during late-night conversations with Indian friends whose parents had arranged their marriages. I grew more appreciative of my freedoms when speaking with Italian and Chinese students about legal protections for same-sex couples, and I re-evaluated my priorities while listening to peers who defined purpose beyond career ambition.

Valuing Community in Diversity & Global Perspectives

In many ways, those Friday dinners embodied the kind of education I came to Georgetown for. In the School of Foreign Service, we’re trained to navigate a complex world — understanding countries beyond American borders, the geopolitics that shape their engagement and the roots of modern conflicts. Around that table, I learned that doing this well requires more than knowledge; it demands humility, curiosity before judgment and a shared commitment to honorable values.

I thought studying abroad meant mastering a place I already understood. Instead, it taught me to walk toward what I had yet to learn. 

So here’s my pitch to you. Yes — I liked Paris for the Louvre and Eiffel Tower, Mass at Notre Dame, and one-euro baguettes. But I loved my study abroad because of the remarkable group of college kids I threw dinner parties with every Friday. For their unadulterated excitement and curiosity; for their childhood stories and insights; for their family recipes and pump-up songs. Most of all, for their honest-to-God generosity — allowing us to travel the globe for the small price of a five-euro Venmo.

When you’re studying abroad, jump at the opportunity to be an “outsider.” Or even on campus, start your own dinner series. Invite strangers to bring a family recipe. You may discover more about the world than you ever expected, without even leaving the dining room table.