Michelle Hennessy – News Writer
Having lived in three different countries before I was 16, travel has always been a big part of my life. I still remember the first time I visited New York when I was six, stepping out of the taxi and looking up (and up, and up) at the concrete jungle that was miles away from anything I had experienced growing up.
By the time I left I was hooked and the thought of being able to get there by train in less than an hour seemed like a distant dream.
Yet here I am, eight weeks into my year in America, having been to New York twice, Boston and Cape Cod with upcoming trips planned to Niagara Falls, Grand Canyon and California; my very own American dream.
I had looked into coming to the United States for college ever since I was 16, but after a combined feeling of shock, horror and disbelief when researching American tuition fees, I knew unless I could find a scholarship for shopping or eating, I would have to settle for just a year.
Saying goodbye was hard, moving so far away from home and not seeing friends and family (and my two biggest loves: my car and my dog) for so long is a challenge, but at the same time has given me a new found independence that would have taken a long time to acquire had I stayed in England.
I’ve had to make several adjustments while being here: making the great switch from tea to coffee (a life without Dunkin’ seems so distant now); swapping queue, lifts and uni for line, elevator and college; and making the conscious decision to leave to catch the bus half an hour after it’s scheduled to arrive, would it kill them to be on time every once in a while?
I’ve also had to learn not to laugh at some of the things I get asked, “Oh you’re from Britain?” one man asked me on the bus, “Your English is so good though, how long have you been learning it?”
After dying of shock and then returning to the conversation confused and saddened by what I’d just been asked, I managed to reply in the least judgmental way I could before desperately trying to find my earphones to avoid any more questions. I’m thankfully not the only international student to be asked some of the most bizarre questions I’ve ever heard. My German roommate was asked on the same bus what the main language is in Germany, “It’s really not English?” he asked while she sat there hoping his question had been lost in translation. Other favorites of mine include whether or not giving someone a piggy back ride ‘exists’ in England and one of the other internationals being asked if Germany was involved in the Second World War.
Despite this, and despite the fact New Haven is rated as the fourth most dangerous city in America (I clearly didn’t do my research before arriving) it’s definitely home now. Perhaps it’s the weather, perhaps it’s the people, or perhaps it’s just the fact it’s in America, which instantly puts it above any other city I’ve lived in; there’s something about the interesting people you meet on the public transport and the conveniently placed Dunkin’ Donuts on every other street that’s going to make returning to my home country a bitter-sweet feeling.
