"I Forgot About the Study Part Of Study Abroad" (Start of Classes)

August 2011

Having been accustomed to going back to Uni waaaay after my younger sister goes back to school, having to go to classes whilst still in the month of August and feeling like I was on holiday was a shock to the system. A massive shock. I really wanted someone to come up to me and say ‘Aw, you’re English and you’re not used to starting this early in the year. Have the next few weeks off’. As it happened, no one did. Starting classes bought the new pressure of finding rooms and buildings and panicking when the name of the class wasn’t quite what I thought it was going to be. One class I wanted to take in Social Geography looked at racial discrimination in cities through time in literature. I dropped that one pretty quickly. 

The American system of University (or college as they call it) education is very different from that of the UK. Firstly, the work load is insane. And I’m doing the bare minimum of credits possible. The way it works here is lots of little assignments every week, plus reading, plus extra work. Nothing like of the UK system of a slightly larger project every few weeks meaning you can chill out for a bit then work manically at the end. Here you have to stay on top or struggle to keep up. Which I found out the hard way on the first two weeks. Reflected in the work balance is the marking scheme. To get an A (i.e. 1^st) you have to get 80-90%. Yeah, my reaction was one of horror too. However, in my opinion with lots of little bits of marked work it may be easier to pick up more marks along the way than in the UK where so much is based on the exams at the end of the semester. Check back for more insight into that one when I get some (probably terrible) marks back! There is also this incredibly bizarre system of “extra marks” here, where you can get bonus marks for either turning up to extra classes or watching a video or something like that. These marks can be up to 30% on top of the maximum grade, giving a potential score of 130 out of 100. HOW DOES THAT WORK?!!! The attitudes towards work here is quite interesting to note also. In my opinion, in the UK its dangerous to be labelled as the keen student who’s always putting their hand up in lectures or helping the lecturer out. You don’t want to be labelled as a ‘keeno’. However, the States this is encouraged with a percentage of the final grade given for classes participation. This leads to some (f***ing annoying) students constantly being like ‘can I do this, can I do that’ towards the lecturers. Ugh, grow up and take your tongue out of their arse! However, I guess the logic behind it is to encourage class discussion etc which is a good thing, and with generally much smaller class sizes it means the lecturers can get to know their students much better on a personal level. However, this was (and still is) incredibly hard to get used to, leading to me being very British abroad and going ‘for f*** sake sit down and shut up’ towards people. 

I do like the US system in some ways in that you don't have to pick what degree you do (known as Majoring here) until 2nd year. To me that makes a lot more sense as people can try out different modules in 1st and 2nd years and then decide. Furthermore, there is a much greater flexibility in module options, with many students taking modules that may have no relation to their major at all. Its also interesting to note that in order to graduate from UNC (I'm not sure about other institutions), students have to fulfill certain requirements, such as taking a maths module or history module at some point in their 4 year programme. I like that system a lot and think it should be implemented in the UK to give UK students more choice about the modules they may want to do at Uni. However, to balance out, I hate the way students have to buy books for their course. It is compulsory to buy books for the modules you take, and the number of books  can be as high as 10 or 12 PER MODULE. Yes, 10 or 12. At up to $200 a book. Yep, you read right again. It's mental. And that's for one semester too. It was a serious blow to my budget as I was hoping to try and get around it by using the library, but found it wasn't feasible to do that. I would like to apologise to the people in the book store for my grumpy-ness whilst buying the books. I was seriously pissed off about having to pay $135 for one book. And it only has like 100 pages.

Needless to say, the work load has produced some very negative attitudes among the English with mutterings (probably majority from me) of disbelief at what we had to do whilst at UNC. Yeah, I know, I forgot about the ‘study’ party of ‘study abroad’…

Not working. Obviously!

The week also entailed me having some very late nights and early mornings, which increased the shock to my body. We were invited to a 21^st birthday by Emma, who we met whilst at the Frat party the week before. A number of Emma’s housemates had spent a semester abroad the year before, and were keen to get to know us and welcome us to the States and help us out. Weirdly enough I met Lexi and Ryan who were at Manchester Uni. the previous semester, so it was cool chatting to them about their experiences there. After the party we went to a place called East End in Franklin Street (no, not East Enders as I originally heard and got a little freaked out by the image of East Londoners walking around inside). The place was cool, with country music playing and games of beer pong happening on special tables at the back. A beer was only a quarter (roughly 20p) which was awesome. Until I tasted the beer. Then it wasn’t so awesome. Needless to say I now hate Bud Light. Its vile. Fiona naively went off to dance by herself and had to be rescued from a big black guy by John. Provided much amusement for me when I heard!

The week also saw the first UNC EASE event happen. EASE is an group set up for internationals whilst at UNC to meet others and have socials and sports teams together. It was good meeting new people again, as well as see some others I hadn’t seen since Orientation. Pat came too, and afterwards we went for a drink at R&R Grille (yes, with an ‘e’) with some other internationals from Ireland, Australia, France and England. A mate of Pat’s, Andrew, came and joined us, hilariously drunk and proceeded to try and chat up the girls with his journalistic skills (he writes a column for the Daily Tar Heel), and as he left he wrote his number on a napkin and shoved in Camille’s bag without her noticing (think she still hasn’t found it!). Hilarious for the guys around the table, the girls weren’t too sure how to react! I also hooked up with Pat on the Thursday and went for a few drinks with him, bumping into a couple  of guys I had met before and meeting some new ones. Went to a place called ‘Top of the Hill’ (commonly referred to as ‘Toppo’), which I thoroughly recommend people go to (just to put some touristy bits into the blog!).

Anyways, Saturday was a welcome chill out day I’m telling you!

The Calm Before the Storm (Days before Classes Start)

August 2011

Friday morning was Orientation of all International Exchange Students, which involved getting up at a rather early time of 8.00am (OK, not that early but after a 3am crash out it was hard!) and finding where the hell the orientation was actually happening. After getting lost and meeting a equally lost Ozzie on the way I managed to make it to the orientation in time for a little socialising beforehand (I have to say I haven’t actually seen most of those people since…) before being ushered into the lecture hall. We were then promptly scared to death about the ins and outs of our immigration statuses and what that did and didn’t entail and how we would all be deported if we so much as spoke to a cop the wrong way or swore in front of fresher’s (admittedly massive exaggeration there but there was a lot of stuff we can be deported for including not turning up to lectures!). Then the orientation proper got underway by the most amazing Amanda the Study Abroad Advisor. Now Amanda has sent me (and others) numerous emails in the past months relating to different amounts of mundane paper filling and information. However, the emails always bought a smile to my face due their upbeat nature and always without fail wishing me a “happy day”. Amanda in person was no different and looking around the hall you could see smiles come to peoples faces as she radiated genuine joy at having us all there – a proper Southern girl! The orientation itself involved local information, academics information, what do etc as one would expect from something like that, including where the USA was in relation to the rest of the world….erm hello?! Once the orientation was over the rest of the day was spent chilling in the sun and sweating like a pig in a butchers. Typical weather for North Carolina!

Anyways, that evening I had the most random evening I’ve had in a long while (including nights out with OTC!). What started as a little illegal drinking (only Fiona and I in the English lot are 21) in my room turned into drinking in **** and *******'s room (guys in my corridor-didn't want to be named in case Housing read this and kick them out of their room), as they had a properly decked out room with a sofa and TVs. What promptly followed was something from when 14 year old''s drink in the park. Every time there was a bang on the door, all alcohol had to be hidden before the door was open (this will be explained in due course). I was astounded that as an adult at 21 I was having to hide my alcohol. It was such a random scenario! Despite, once copious amounts of hidden alcohol was consumed (we tried teaching the Americans ‘International Drinking Rules’. It didn’t work. At all) we headed to a house for a house party. Now if the hidden drinking had blown me away then the house party was something else! Image American Pie. That’s all you need to do. It was just like that. Red cups, beer pong and random people making out in corners. So surreal to literally step into the American stereotype! The people there were really friendly though and very eager to chat to us Brits. The never ending question of “Oh my gawd are you English?!” was frequently asked, but being the first night out I didn’t mind. To begin with. I should explain another American phenomena which is known as Party Juice, or PJ. This is a (usually lethal) concoction of alcohol and sweeteners in a massive bucket or similar holder which everyone dips their cups into and drinks from (hence the red cups). This is obviously for those underage so they can get drunk, but was rather different from the English attitude of BYOB which we did. Needless to say it all got drunk. Obviously.

Red Cups!!

As the party went on, Harriet (being all things knowing) found a friend at a frat party. Now we couldn’t turn that offer down! So we set off trying to find the frat house. In America the frat and sorority system is huge and people take it VERY seriously. But I personally didn’t realise this and just bumbled along hoping to meet some new people. After a short time (well, long because we got lost), we got to the frat house and again I was stunned (think American Pie again). Really nice place with lots of people. But no booze to be found. Anywhere. However upon asking Lillie, Harriet’s friend, she directed us to a bin. At this point I looked at her like she was wasted and was wanting to have a laugh with the Brits. But no upon closer inspection at the bottom of the bin there was a plastic bag with some sort of beverage within. I know what you’re thinking, and yes we did dip our lovely red cups in and have a taste (when in America!). Surprisingly not bad, except we finished it and so had to make a hasty retreat out of the kitchen onto the front lawn. Lillie’s mates were cool, and we all got on with them well. I didn’t really chat to many others worth mentioning! To my delight the evening was wrapped up in style with a pizza (a lovely similarity with English partying!), except this pizza could feed the 5000. No joke. 

New Kids in the Frat: Fiona, Me, Harriet, Lillie (American!), John & Andrea

The rest of the few days of freedom before the horror that was classes started was spent chilling, finding as much free food as possible (harder than I thought – ended up having to listen about some weird Christian sect for ½ hour to get some pizza at one point), and getting out and meeting as many people as possible. One bizarre event we went to was called a “Target Party”. Target is basically an ASDA-type place and they were having a party in it, with promises of “mental discounts, massive giveaways and dancing in the aisles”. Sounded like it could have been good, so we went. What a mistake. Queuing for 45mins for a coach there and battling with people to get into the store wasn’t that fun, and then the “massive giveaways” turned out to be some shite flavoured water (pretty much tasted like sugar water) and microwaveable macaroni cheese, which I haven’t even ventured to taste because it looks radioactive. No joke. From that point on it went downhill. It was basically a massive marketing ploy by Target to get students into spend. Selves were bare, people fighting over the last items of certain stock and a massive queue to get out again. Slight plus was there was a bit of dancing the isles which was funny to watch. Image in that in Tesco’s! John was hungry for some shorts as he had only bought two pairs with him (I wish I could put some witty comment in here but I cant talk as I bought one pair with me…) so went on the hunt to get some more. Only to get home, try them on and find they didn’t fit him. I was fairly pleased though I managed to get a cheap case of beer. Result!

Dancing in Target

 

Yeah...this happened

With our bags of goodies!

We also attended the UNC FallFest, which is similar to a Freshers Fair in the UK, only in one evening and with many, many more people. It was cool wandering around seeing all the different activities and clubs on offer at the uni and getting LOTS of free food (mmmmm). There was also two stages with different performances (some good, some awful!) and lots bouncy castles! It was amazing to see a dance called a 'stomp' , usually performed by the Black Fraternities, which involved a lot of stomping (obviously) and clapping and body hitting. Really quite awesome to watch and even funnier to watch these acts jump around in celebration high-fiving each other when they had done. In the middle of the stage. 

Was quite a bizarre experience to see all the different denominations of Christianity trying to get people to join their societies, however. I guess it’s cool that all these different versions are represented and that, but at the same time I didn’t notice any other religious societies such as Islam etc there which was interesting to note. Also as a massive ego boost to myself, I got told I had a cute accent by a random girl on one of the society desks. Shame I couldn’t say the same back about her horrible New York-en accent… Me a John also got pressured into signing up for a 24 hour dance marathon by probably the scariest girl I’ve ever met. She just didn’t take no for an answer, or the fact that Johns feet were practically falling off. Needless to say I put a bogus email address down on the signup sheet and ran (John hobbled).

At FallFest

With Ramses, UNC's mascot

Keon, my roommate also moved over the weekend. Despite all the nervousness I had about meeting him and practically being in each other’s space for a year he seemed a nice enough guy. Was rather embarrassing when he arrived however, as I was in bed nursing a fairly large hangover (it was 10am I point out). I initially heard a sound that was a little like strong wind getting louder and louder. At which point I had awoken and panicked not knowing what was going on and uncomfortably remembering I was in hurricane alley and didn’t actually know what to do if a hurricane stuck Chapel Hill. Anyway, panic was averted when I worked out it was a wheelie chair being wheeled down the corridor (at a fair rate I have to say!) and I sunk back into feeling sorry for myself (I have to say hangovers here are a killer with the heat and humidity), only to hear a key turn in the door and Keon come striding in with most of his extended family behind him. Cue massive embarrassment as I’m in bed in just my boxers. Keon introduced himself as Gunn (not Keon) and went to get some more stuff to move into the room. I leapt out of bed and threw some clothes on and stood around make small talk to his aunt. Once he had sorted his bed and shelves out, Gunn told me he would see me tomorrow, and left the room. Being rather confused, but grateful I could get a bit more lie down time, I sunk back into my pit. Now I was very very nervous about sharing a room with someone who I knew nothing about, and I know it will most probably test my tolerance and attitudes to other people, and so far I can (tentatively) say its not too bad. The biggest issue is me rolling back most nights a little merry and Gunn getting up rather early to do work. We shall see how it works out I guess!

Another new experience was being take to watch a game of 'pick-up' by Pat. 'Pick up' is like a chilled out game of basketball - similar to a kick around in the park with football. The Mens 1st team basketball were offering anyone who wanted to to play them on the courts near my dorm. Now these guys are amazing -  the UNC basketball team is in the top rankings in the country and the players are offered scholarships to come and play for the Tar Heels (the name of the UNC sports teams). Watching them play was phenomenal, especially as all they seemed to do was reach up and place the ball through the hoop. Loads of students and locals turned up to watch as well which gave a really nice social atmosphere to the game.

Pick Up

Adding to the ever increasing list of new experiences, the weekend showed me another American College Life phenomena I still don’t fully get which is Dorm Life. We were all summoned to the lounge on the Sunday evening, to meet everyone else on our corridor and out RA (called Connor who I had already met). This seemed on the surface cool, and I thought it would be along the lines of “say your name, year, where you’re from and a silly fact about yourself” type event and then we would all go and party somewhere or something. However, this was not to be the case at all. Forms had to be filled stating your date of birth, timetable of classes and inside leg measurements and we were read the riot act about drinking, noise and keeping the place clean. Yeah. Exactly.

Now, to those of you who go to an British institution, this will surprise you. Needless to say I sat there with my mouth open thinking “WTF?!”. When I moved into halls in Manchester, I moved in, met my flat mates, went out and then met my RA with a stinking hangover the next morning with him going “I’m your RA, come see me if you need anything”. The rest of the year was spent getting up to mischief and getting on the wrong side of campus security and I never saw my RA again (I can’t even remember what he looks like). Here its completely different. The RA lives in the corridor, and is responsible for the wellbeing of everyone and organising social activities etc. ‘That’s cool’, I thought nice way for people to meet each other and that. But also the RAs on duty every night do rounds of the halls (yes you read right) to ensure everyone is being quiet after 9pm (yes you read that right too). Those in Manchester, imagine that happening in the Tower or Oaks House. It would never happen! Furthermore (and to my increasing amazement, the rules on alcohol are as stringent. There is only to be one open container of alcohol per 21 years old in a room only. ‘What happens if it’s a bottle of vodka one is drinking from?’ I thought to myself ‘does that count as the one or is the cup also an open container?’. Also, even though I’m 21, I can’t have a nice cold beer on a Sunday evening outside of my room on the grass outside or in the lounge watching TV (I have to say however – and Connor don’t read this – these rules are regularly flaunted by most people). This was a bit of American culture I wasn’t quite prepared for, having seen films like ‘American Pie’ and ‘College Liaison’ where it’s all party, party, party in the dorm rooms. And I think in some ways this year could be a long one…

Floundering in Stereotypes (Second Day)

August 2011

So I awoke at 8.30 on the Thursday morning. Well, I say 8.30am, it was actually 3.30am (NC being 5 hours behind the UK), and I wasn’t too happy about that. It was a pattern that continued for a good week longer. But being knackered from my 24hour day the day before, I pretty easily went back to sleep. When it finally seemed a normal time to rise out of bed, I went and had a shower – interesting experience to one who has never lived in a corridor set up before - and went on the hunt for breakfast. I was pointed towards Franklin street by the RA’s who were sat outside the dorm in eagerness for new arrivals (seriously, they were dead keen!) and went off “a-walking”. Franklin Street is about a 5 min walk from Graham Dorm (where I live) in theory. It actually took me 15, with a lot of confusion to the traffic light system in Chapel Hill. It seems that in some places you can just walk across the road and in others you cant. I played safe, not wanting to get arrested for jaywalking, and waited for some nice person to take pity on me and let me cross.

Front of my dorm

Looking onto Franklin Street

What struck me about the place is how big everything is. Big cars, bit roads, big buildings. Even the wasps are bigger here! The biggest problem for me, especially on the first day, was the size of the food. I went into a lovely place called Carolina Coffee House on Franklin Street, enticed by the promise of omelette “with whatever you want” - I should add here that there was a price involved with that, and they couldn’t guarantee to have literally anything you wanted - but anyways, I ordered an omelette and a cup of tea and made small talk with the manager who had once been to England when he was married (v long story trust me). It was then that I noticed other British accents in the place, and after spying them out in a very English way (i.e. subtly you Americans!) I sat there listening to them (OK, being nosey). I quickly realised they were other exchange students, and I knew I had to go over and meet them so I had some friends. Easier to say than done! It took me all of my omelette (a very long time with the size of the dam thing!) and two cups of tea (not the nicest tea in the world – nowhere can do tea like the UK) to pluck up the courage to walk over and introduce myself, worrying that they would rebuff me and laugh at my food baby visible under my t-shirt from the omelette. Needless to say I didn’t have to worry – they were (and still are I guess!) a lovely bunch and we’ve been pretty much inseparable since (look on the peoples page for info about them if you’re interested). I successfully latched onto them like a leach (well, a desperate person for friends), and together we skipped into the sunset in a happy daze… OK, we walked rather slowly due to the horrendous heat as soon as you walk anywhere.  

The UNC campus has only one word to describe it: Beautiful. Well two then: Absolutely beautiful. I was stunned at how amazing it is. And also how large it is too, compared to the likes of Manchester campus. Redbrick buildings set into huge lawns and trees everywhere! This is probably a place to talk about my door and dorm. As previously mentioned I’ve never lived in a corridor setting before, sharing bathrooms and toilets etc. The room itself is ok, slightly bigger than the one I had in first year, with two windows, desks, beds that can be lifted up etc. Now I should mention the fact that I actually share a room. Yep, you read right, I have a roommate. Now while this may not be a problem now, at the time I hadn’t met the lucky chap who was sharing with me and this was somewhat of a concern. What happens if he’s a loud American who likes chopping down trees? Or a sports freak who gets up for a run at 5am every day? Or a sexual maniac who brings women home every night?! What happens then?! There are roughly 20 rooms on the corridor with 2 people in each (except the RA’s room – lucky bugger!) with a lounge at the end that links onto the girl’s side of the corridor. It is however a new experience to have to walk down the end of the corridor to go to the loo or even to get a drink! An experience likely to be most appreciated when I'm back in Manchester with a bathroom shared with a lot less people and a lot less distance away!

Some images of the campus

 

That evening the English lot and I went to Franklin Street for a meal in a place called Spankeys. Now I originally misread the place name and got quite excited about there being a Sankeys in Chapel Hill (to you non-Mancunians, Sankeys is a massive club in Manchester), which would have made an awesome photo. As it was I was being retarded and just managed to avoid making myself look a fool. I would recommend the place though as the food was rather nice (that’s the tourist guide-esk part put in!), and they had cool caricatures on the wall which provided a fair bit of amusement!

After the meal I hooked up with my wonderful mentor Pat for a night out on the town (more of a road really). His housemate Madison was DJ-ing at a club behind Chapel Hill so we went along; Pat to support Madison, me to indulge in culture watching again. The club itself was OK, bit like 5^th Ave for those of you who get the reference, and was fairly full, which is always a good sign! Queuing for a drink however wasn’t good. Now, I don’t want to make a sweeping statement here but some Americans do not know how to politely wait at the bar for a drink. I was waiting for over 30mins for a drink at in the process was pushed, elbowed, screamed past and at one point almost jumped over by others (mainly girls who thought getting their tits out warranted a free drink). The barman himself was a right dick as well. But anyways, after waiting I thought ‘Screw it’ and bought 10 beers in one (not all for myself I hasten to add!). Pats mates who I met – Willy who’s literally like 7 foot and Rayme who’s literally like 4 foot – were really cool and friendly, and they indoctrinated me into the weird world of US clubbing. Now in the UK you may see people making out in the corners of clubs or in the middle of the dance floor. In the US, its borderline sex. No kidding. Needless to say I was amazed and then ended up in hysterics watching one or two couples not getting too far away from just ripping their clothes off and getting down and dirty on the dance floor. An experience it was! Secondly, Americans are much better dancers. Fact. I felt rather awkward with my usual swaying holding a beer and promptly felt obliged to drink some more and just go for it (Mum if you’re reading this I didn’t do that at all. Honestly….). Eventually I couldn’t push off the jetlag anymore and had to retire for the eve, after facing the tricky issue of finding my way alone and a drunk (read sober Mum) leading to me going down some rather dodgy park pathways. Ah well, im still alive today I guess! Filled with apprehension about my roommate possibly having turned up whilst I was out, I quietly (for a drunk person at least) opened the door and found the room empty. Perfect for crashing out!

Lingo

I was expecting this, and I wasn’t disappointed. We all know that Americans call things differently to the English, and the South is no different. What follows is a list of words I have said to people and gotten a blank look in response, or that I hadn’t really heard before, with its English meaning or explanation.

Y’all – you all.

Heaps – lots of

Dumbass – (self explanatory)

Yankee – peoples from the Northern states of the USA (related to the American Civil War)

Chips – crisps (so confusing!)

Refrigerator – fridge

Only 3 hours away – bloody miles!

“Graaam” – Graham (name of my Dorm)

“Craaaag” – Craige (name of another dorm)

The Pit – The campus center where a lot of people meet up

RA – residential advisor. They are responsible for the corridor and those in it.

Biscuit – a breakfast type edible thing. Nothing like McVities!

Grits – a cheesy potato-y type food

Redcoat – my name in the corridor when I act stereotypically English (usually proceeded by goddam!)

How are you?! – Hello (doesn’t always warrant a response – very confusing!)

Have a good day y'all!

August 2011

So I’ve never been to the USA before. My visions of the US are big people, big cars and big food. Oh and hicks. My first encounter with an American was getting onto the plane to Atlanta. She was a nun, reinforcing the whole Christian image of the states. Putting my anti-religious feeling aside and helped her lift her bag into the overhead lockers. That will be going on my CV for application to heaven.

The flight was pretty uneventful. Just very long. Even longer when Russel Brand is prancing around on the screen pretending to be a big kid or something. I thought it was a documentary but apparently it’s a “popular film” according to the inflight magazine. I then saw that the most expensive perfume on sale was also “popular” so  I stopped believing the magazine.

As we came into land at Atlanta a smile was brought to my face looking down at the stereotypical American houses in the suburbs with swimming pools and cars in the drive. The cheery “have a good day” reinforced the good feeling I had as I left the plane, showing me that Americans sure are nice people! However, this was shattered going through the psychological torture that is immigration and customs. Such a ‘dumbass’ system. Going through immigration wasn't so much of an issue as I had heard about. It amused me watching the different nationalities and how nervous some of them looked in trying to get through the plate glass and enter the US officially. The immigration officer I was in line to looked mean. And I mean mean. Like he was guarding the gate into the Mines of Moria or something. The English charm of “Heya, you alright?” did not work one bit. He sized me up, took all important paper work. Looked at me, at the paper, at me again and then asked something of me. I was taken aback at this point, not having a clue what was going on and in the process looked like some foreigner (Ok, so I am, but that’s not what im trying to get at). Aparently he wanted my fingerprints. That in itself caused apprehension, as I then worried about what if they had matched up the wrong ones at the US embassy. Would I be deported, locked up, interrogated?! After what seemed an eternity (OK, more likely 5 seconds), the guardian of the gate looked at me and asked if I had anything to declare. At this point I felt incredibly stupid and English and replied “Tea and chocolate”. Luckily the beast smiled (these creatures can smile?!) and said “goddam brits with their tea”. I chuckled nervously not wanting to upset my new friend who controlled whether I would actually get to UNC or not. Luckily I was waved on and after dropping my papers and passport on the floor, to the sound of another “goddam brits” muttering, passed officially into the United States of America. 

Now I thought that was the stress over with and I'd have a chilled hour waiting for my connecting flight. Not according to Atlanta airport! For reasons unfathomable to normal human beings, passengers have to take their bags off the conveyer belt, pass through customs and check them back in again. Then go through security again. With a massive queue for each stage. Needless to say I had to sprint down the departure lounge once I got through to reach the plane in time, probably sparking a security threat or something. But screw them I'd had enough of the place by that point. An hour and half flight from Atlanta to Raleigh-Durham saw me touch down in North Carolina to beautiful weather. I was in my jeans, so didn’t really appreciate the horrendous heat that literally knocked me sideways as I exited the air-conditioned airport.

My mentor Patrick met at the airport with a massive handshake (making me think, blimey everything is big including handshakes!) and a cheery “Good to meet you, Alex!” (in an American accent of course). I have to say its incredibly reassuring to have someone like Pat meet you at an airport and take you to your room and help you move in. Though I was a little embarrassed at first because I kept looking round like a child and going “wow” to everything. I know, goddam Brits! 

Anyway, once I had moved in (well, put my bags on the floor as I had no hangers) and put some shorts on (my jeans were soaked by this point), Pat took me to his apartment about 5 min drive away and we 'hung out' for a bit. Then his housemate, Madison, arose from his slumber to give me a sleepy “How you doin’?” and drove us into Raleigh for a BBQ with some of their mates. This was my first experience of being the only Brit in the room, with everyone doing a version of that song ‘whip my hair back and forth’ by Willow Smith (though it was to the side not up and down) every time I spoke. They were cool though and real friendly so that was reassuring. However, I had been up nearly 20 hours and traveled 1000’s miles by this point and was starting to flag. Luckily, Pat and Madison drove me back to my room on their way home, and after a rather long chat with my RA, who was very intrigued to have a international student on his corridor.It was an interesting conversation involving jet lag, time differences, rice crispy cake and random people being introduced to me. I also managed to blag a map (handily highlighted with the locations of food, beer, gym and class) and received my bedding which was delivered to the dorm a while earlier. Always a plus! It then got to me practically falling asleep in the RA's office on the sofa and I bid my goodnights, to a cheery chorus of "Y'all have a good sleep now!" This was to be my first sleep in the States and dam I needed it by that point!

Door to my (shared) room

My side of the room