[Editors’ Note: HCK writer Annie Sheslow missed HCK so much that she decided to write for s while she was abroad. Here, she corrects some of the myths that many students here before they go abroad. Read on to see what to expect, and what not to!]
First things first: I almost didn’t write this at all due to a lethal and strange combination of being both busy and lazy, and could see myself penning a study abroad article from the comfort and relative uncool of my couch once I’d returned to America. Then I realized that this act of belated ‘journalism’ would be the equivalent of sending postcards once you’ve gotten home, which is lame. Then I also remembered that I had spent an unfortunate amount of time editing that terrible photoshopped mockery of An American in Paris (above) so it would be weird and sad to have it lurking on my desktop waiting to be accidentally opened by a confused mac genius just trying to do his job when I have laptop problems.
Secondly: The idea that you’ll be either productive or efficient while you’re abroad might qualify as the first study abroad myth…or this might just be some unfortunate character flaws of mine.
Myth #1: There’s No Peanut Butter: This is the quirky advice of so many well-meaning study abroad veterans who try to dish out realistic advice that won’t be extra foreboding. No, future world travellers, you won’t be lonely or run out of money, but you will find yourself missing classic American condiments! LIES. My lack of cooking skills (as exemplified by the fact that I burned a fried egg because I was frying an egg and googling “how to fry an egg” at the same time) forced me to look elsewhere for a source of protein. As if my guardian angel in times of need (and let my egg story show that these past four months have been a time of severe need), I found the elusive peanut butter on the shelves of my local convenience store, coming to rescue me with its eat-out-of-the-jar, utensils-optional goodness. True, sometimes the jars of peanut butter that you find here will mock you with adjectives like “American style” with a little picture of the Statue of Liberty plastered on. My advice: endure the mockery, and declare, ‘Yes, I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I can ingest my protein in the form of a smooth, creamy condiment.’ I consume so much peanut butter, I am worried that my local grocery stores are thinking I’m stockpiling for a malicious attack on people with peanut allergies of the tri-state area.
Myth #2: Everyone wants to see a MILLION scenic photos, so you should put them all on Facebook: Dear people studying abroad: I know (because of social media) you are seeing some amazing vistas of the London skyline or the Italian coast. I also know that when I am back in America I will stalk the albums of people abroad and look at them with jealousy. That being said, it is major pain to Facebook stalk you when I have to sort through dozens of identical photos of the Arc du Triomphe taken at varying 5 degree angle differences to get to the one awkwardly zoomed out shot of you and your friends all forcing a smile because you all know that the American grandma tourist who they trusted enough to not steal the camera does not understand the zoom button. If I come off as a judgmental travel Grinch, it is only because I scan through my own iPhoto library and see myself guilty of the same photography sins. I’m sharing this with you because I care. And because I am judgemental.
Myth #3: As a break from the scenic photos, everyone will be glad you put 100 pictures of you with your new ‘friends’ in that bar: My vague distaste for this visual phenomenon comes from a place of envy once again, due to the fact that if I am at a pub in Dublin, chances are I am not ‘young wild and free’ enough to go and buddy up to whoever is at the bar, allowing them to make fun of my American accent while I try way too hard to be effortlessly cool and assure them that yes, although I look like I might not be able to buy a ticket for a PG-13 movie, I am old enough to be drinking. These grainy bar photos always have an element of cloudiness in them (is it smoke? Perspiration? hormones?), fogging up the lens and all eyes shining with that opossum at night look from the professional flash of an iPhone. I can see that the point of uploading these rarely flattering portraits is to communicate ‘I don’t mind that due to the alcohol consumption of everyone in this photo, it looks like one of those snapshots mid rollercoaster ride because it shows like a badge of honor how crazy our night was!’ These bar ‘randos’ that pop up in group photos are usually pre-midlife crisis mid-30s stag night bros looking to hit on American girls to prove that they still got it. It’s all fun and games until you realize that your new pals were legal adults when Titanic came out- then, as we say in the pun world, ABANDON SHIP!
Myth #4: Being abroad will make you judge all American culture severely and you will want nothing more than to distance yourself from it and be a world citizen: There are those occasional moments when being in a European country for four months makes me feel like I am somehow above the American tourists that wander like lost penguins around the streets of Dublin, their foldable maps guiding them like windsurfing sails through the crosswalks. Then my Netflix history reminds me that I too, am one of them. I thought that being abroad would make me scoff at the trademark rudeness of my home country. I thought I would be sick of trying to explain to people that the idea of the U.S. as a McDonalds utopia with only California, New York City and some Deep South Tea Party craziness to spice up the headlines was generally an over-simplification.
However, some strange part of me insists on expressing homesickness through my bad online TV habits: my roommates and I have whizzed our way through the conspicuous consumption yet strong morals of The Real Housewives of New York, as well as Gossip Girl and most of Amanda Bynes’ back catalogue. I myself have fallen into a deep shame spiral that is Rachel Bilson’s CW opus Hart of Dixie. I am using culture shock as justification for my marathoning this show as well as the fact that it AVICII-style samples the plot of basically any comedy about the American south and edits it around the corners to fit the show. You want the blonde bad boy with a heart of gold who spends most his time wearing unbuttoned flannels and a bare chest like Jake in Sweet Home Alabama? You got it. Looking for (an albeit less racist) gathering of catty white women in fancy dresses as seen in The Help? Watch the Belles reenact a traditional picnic dance! Hart of Dixie is perfect for a casual (read: lazy-ass) audience because plot details are handed over to viewers with such a ham handed obviousness that I am still wondering if their show writers actually do have hams for hands and are just struggling to type with them. However, when you are frolicking around Europe (trust me) you will want a break from actual quality, nuanced, subtitled programming, or at least until that chiseled Burberry model hipster man in your Modernism class invites you to go to some artsy cinema.
Myth #5: You are going to make a new really tight-knit group of international BFFS who will come visit you in America and you can make all your American friends jealous by talking about them.Maybe this one’s just a personal problem…But in all honesty trying to force-friend any Irish students I met into some inside-joke-forming Sisterhood of the Traveling American by joking about my lack of friends makes everybody a little uncomfortable. Just let the friendships happen with the nice people you find, and surrender yourself to the idea that they might be solely temporary.
With all of these myths dispelled, I have one, true, BONUS piece of advice for all of you future study abroad-ers: Come packing 10x the amount of underwear and 30x the amount of confidence than you think you will need. You got this.