How do people start these things? Hi diary, my name’s so-and-so? I don’t know.
Anyways. My family wanted me to document everything that happens with me during this semester I’m spending abroad, and I decided to write in my journal at least once a week. I’ve been here for about three weeks now, so it’s a perfect time to start.
I’ve always dreamed of studying abroad, so when my university announced this program, I knew I had to apply — and here I am, in the United States, at college. Everyone was beyond excited, telling me how great these few months are going to be. And yes, everything is pretty good, but there are so many things no one tells you before you get here, or once you get here.
For example, this college is not even that big by local standards, and yet the campus is huge. I had no idea I would have to walk so much; my advisor made me drop two courses because apparently there’s no way I can get from one building to another in twenty minutes. “But,” I said, “back home we only ever have five-minute breaks and we manage to have lunch and walk wherever we need.”
Also, people are super friendly. Seriously, this sounds like such a nice thing, but it can turn into a problem. Let me set the scene: Monday, 7 a.m. You might be hungover; you haven’t had coffee yet, now on your way to get some. And there’s this guy you’ve only seen that one time, and you aren’t sure that you remember his name… Mike? Mac? And he waves at you and asks how you’re doing and you try to find the strength to smile… I think I’m starting to get used to that; yesterday I asked someone how they’re doing without actually looking for the right words.
But you can forget all about that friendliness when you come to class, because no one makes friends there. You come, you learn, you leave and go about your own life. Back home I’ve met all of my friends in class. Here most of my classmates don’t even say hi to me in the hallways; I’m not bitter, I swear. It’s just strange. Okay, maybe I do want to be friends with some of them. I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to talk to them outside the classroom.
Other things I had to get used to include calling professors by their first names (back home it’s considered awfully disrespectful); food that’s weirdly sweet (I grabbed some bread and it was sweet — what’s up with that?); eight-hour time difference (I’ve been calling home at all sorts of weird hours); mandatory attendance (yeah, back home most professors just don’t care that much).
I do love it here, though. I’m so happy to be here. The classes are amazing, college life is fun, I have great friends... And whatever happens, I'll get through it. After all, everything is a new experience here, right?
