Blogger: Abbey Little

Program: CIS Abroad — Newcastle, Australia

Upon my arrival in Australia, I was regularly confronted with the question, “Why Australia?”  Invariably, I had two justifications—firstly, the lack of a language barrier, and secondly, the claim that math is the same across the world (which pertains to my Actuarial Science major).  After week 1 of lectures, workshops, and tutorials, I found flaws in both of my rationales.  I caught myself asking my Australian friends to repeat themselves three or four times before finally, if ever, really grasping what they were saying.  Sometimes, a soft smile and a nod would have to suffice.  I was writing statistics terms in my notes that I have never come across in my studies thus far. These events did not cause a sense of doubt in myself or my decision to study abroad here in the remarkable country of Australia, but a feeling of wistfulness crept upon me.

It was a feeling so distant, foreign to say the least.  It’s bittersweet, yet soothing, the feeling of wistfulness.  As in melancholy, something that distance cannot repair.  Accompanied by a cloud filled with drops of despair.  As in nostalgia, I’ve spent moments yearning.  But overall, of myself I am truly learning.  This feeling of wistfulness was unusually soothing, I must say.  Bittersweet, yet so foreign in the most comforting way.

I suppose I was not prepared for the load of culture shock I would experience, because I continue to feel that I belong here day in and day out.  There is a change in scenery, of course—I am awakened by the screeching sounds of cockatoos each morning, rather than a blanket of snow.  Bell peppers are not a thing here, but capsicums are.  Pronouncing words such as herbs, basil, oregano, and aluminum in front of a group of Australians will cause confusion and laughter amongst them.  An American friend of mine told her Australian roommate that she was struggling to get her joggers over her calves, which completely baffled her roommate, given that joggers are the equivalent to our tennis shoes.  Brekky is now my first meal and lunch is served in the arvo.  I no longer shop at malls; I shop at shopping centres.  I sit on a bus or in the back of Tayla’s car (yes—Tayla, not Taylor) in traffic on the left side of the road—something I have adjusted to quite easily!  I flip switches “down” to turn outlets “on” and turn door locks to the left rather than to the right.  You won’t find a car in a parking lot, instead a car park.  At first, these modifications seemed troublesome, but now I don’t give them a second thought.

What I have found most refreshing about my first month in Australia is the generosity of the individuals I have interacted with.  Liz, a fellow American, and I woke at 5 one morning to catch brekky at a kiosk on the beach.  We ordered an Uber from outside of West Tower where we reside, with plenty of time to enjoy the sunrise.  We stepped in to a Cadillac that was in the control of an older man, mid-60’s if I had to take a guess.  Conversation has come easy for us because we always get posed with the, “where are you from?” question.  We discussed some major U.S. cities—i.e. New York City, LA, Chicago—and then babbled on about our love for the beauty of Australia.  The driver then asked us where exactly we were planning on going to see the sunrise.  When we told him, he shook his head slightly in disapproval.  “Let me take you somewhere better. It’s the best place to watch the sunrise,” the man suggested.  We were then en route to Newcastle’s iconic Nobby’s Beach—a place we had only seen midday.  What was so humbling about the whole experience in the Uber was how serene we were to change our plans because someone who had only just met us cared enough to share a piece of his home with us.

As we pulled up to the beach, the sky was filled with storm clouds, but we were still anticipating a beautiful sunrise.  Liz and I strolled in to the Swell Kiosk when they opened their doors at 6:30 am and ordered our coffees and food before wandering across the pavilions.  We sat silently, listening to the wave’s crash in to the rocks near the shore.  It wasn’t too long before we realized we were not going to see the sunrise we had expected.  Instead, we were greeted with a calm under the waves, welcoming the collision of two worlds—a storm ahead racing towards clear skies behind us.  We savored our brekky under a pavilion as we watched the storm roll in.  Within the chaos that was brought on by harsh winds and the beginning of rainfall, we made the decision to order an Uber back to the city as the storm settled in over the beach–a delicacy that we could only attempt to capture in photos.  I long for more unforeseen adventures such as this peculiar Tuesday morning.

Being 9,000+ miles away from home is undeniably challenging, but there is an incomparable beauty within it that.  Stepping outside of my comfort zone has allowed me to form friendships that I will cherish forever, with both Americans whom I already look forward to visiting in the states as well as Australians who I cannot imagine leaving someday.  I am living in the glory of a foreign culture and I have found true gratification in that.

Cheers!

xx Abbey