Reflections on my Year Abroad

It is with great sadness that I type the word ‘Reflections’ at the top of my page, this is simply because it can only mean one thing; the end. The end of my year in America. The end of my travels. The end of an era. But, without getting too nostalgic, it also represents the beginning. The beginning of summer. The beginning of reunions with friends. The beginning of a new me.

Going abroad as part of your degree is an absolutely amazing experience and I cannot recommend it enough. For any undergraduate students, or even students currently studying for their A-Levels, if you get the chance to go abroad within your degree, take it. Grasp it with both hands and don’t look back. If you wanted to take a Gap Year and didn’t have the chance this could be your perfect opportunity to develop personally, experience a different culture and gain a new academic perspective. But that’s not all you get from studying abroad, the list goes on and on. When I look back at the somewhat neat-freak, perfectionist, high strung student I was getting on my first transatlantic flight last August, I only have to look in the mirror to see how I’ve changed. Yes, my exterior may not have drastically altered - I still have faded tan lines and hair bleached blonde from the sun. But emotionally, I’ve become a little less stressed and a lot more laid-back.

By going on a Year Abroad and thriving under every opportunity to meet new people and travel to your hearts content, it demonstrates your ability to be independent and adapt to new situations, it shows your sensitivity and respect to other cultures and viewpoints, and reveals your desire to stretch yourself and step outside your comfort zone. If that doesn’t sound like a CV enhancing statement, I’m not sure what does.

I think it’s fair to say that a Year Abroad offers a wealth of personal and professional benefits; from making lifelong friends to growing in self-confidence, from establishing international contacts to enhancing your employability – this year truly has been the best yet!

So while I attempt to get back to the London time zone, slot back into my friendship group at home and of course detox my body from all those Reese’s Cupcakes I’ve been scoffing, I think I’ll end on a thank you. Thank you Parents for your undying support. Thank you Grandma for your never ending love.  Thank you Kent. Thank you South Carolina. And a huge thank you to every person at USC who went out their way to help me as I struggled with the initial culture shock of the South – from coffee dates to car rides, Off Off Broadway to Club Swimming, the Brits Abroad to my lovely American friends. I miss you all already. Come visit me in England!

I honestly have more pictures than I could ever want or need but here's a few of my favourite moments from the past year.

God Bless and Go Cocks!

California Dreaming

In the words of Katy Perry “You could travel the world but nothing comes close to the golden coast”. From being picked up in a convertible mustang in the middle of Hollywood to go to the OC for the day, to surfing the shoreline in San Diego, from wine tasting in Napa Valley, to exploring the eerie Alcatraz, the West Coast really is a postcard perfect destination. The three weeks I spent in California will be remembered fondly as some of best in my Year Abroad. Perhaps it was California's laid-back, outdoorsy lifestyle or maybe the famous landmarks? The sun, sea and sand combination never fails to spark a humongous smile across my childishly excited face.

I flew from New York to San Francisco to stay with some of my University friends from home that were studying abroad at UC Berkeley. There’s nothing quite like being reunited with friends, we obviously had a ton to catch up on and spent the first couple of days in hysterical fits of laughter as we told stories about the various incidents we’d found ourselves in over the last year. From riding in the back of pick-up trucks to Fraternity parties to tailgating at American Football games, one thing that has become very apparent is that none of our experiences have been the same. The United States is so diverse and every state I’ve visited (13 of them!) has offered a unique perspective on life.

Berkeley, San Francisco, Sonoma, Napa Valley, Santa Cruz, Salinas, Monterey, the Big Sur, Santa Barbara, Hollywood, LA, The OC beaches, San Diego and the Big Basin Redwood National State Park…. I have over 1000 pictures of endless coastline, white beaches, vineyards, hunky boys holding surfboards, delicious Mexican cuisine, hair bleached blonde from the endless sunshine and trees so tall they can’t even fit in the frame!

With California being the 3^rd largest State in America (after Alaska and Texas) I could probably fill an entire girlie novel with my many adventures and mishaps. So instead, I’m going to give you my personal top ten things to see on the Golden Coast:

1) Walk the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco

An absolute tourist must! The Frommers travel guide considers the Golden Gate Bridge "possibly the most beautiful, certainly the most photographed, bridge in the world". This iconic bridge stretches across the channel between San Francisco Bay and the Pacific Ocean, and if you don’t fancy walking, you can always hire a bike!

2) Get drunk wine tasting in Napa Valley

Talking of hiring bikes…. When I was in Sonoma we hired bicycles on our first day of wine tasting and cycled between the wineries taking in the gorgeous scenery. Warning: you cannot be a lightweight if you choose to partake in this activity!

3) Drive down the breath taking coastline - Highway 1

The road trip of all road trips.The exhilarating drive of a lifetime down the twisting, cliff-hugging, 123-mile route along highway 1 is definitely not one to miss!

4) Surf in San Diego

You cannot go to California and not attempt to become a surfing goddess. Although, it definitely looks easier when some tanned surfer dude is riding the waves compared to little me getting bashed about by the strong rip current. Maybe I’ll attend surf school next time..

5) Nourish your body on Mexican food

I’m not talking about Taco Bell or Chipotle or any other Mexican fast food chain that will leave you with nothing but regrets and a poorly tummy. With the Mexican border only 16 miles from San Diego, California offers delicious one off Mexican cafes and restaurants up and down the coast serving authentic and incredibly yummy Quesada’s, Burritos, and Nachos. 

6) Hike up to the Hollywood sign

We took a hike up Runyon Canon and the Hollywood Hills, and the view from behind the Hollywood sign is pretty amazing. If you don’t fancy the trek to the top, you can always take a romantic picnic to the Griffith Observatory and watch the sun set behind the Hollywood sign. 

7) Tan on one of the beautiful beaches in the OC

Miles upon miles of white sand; Laguna Beach, Huntington Beach, Newport Beach. I spent a necessary couple of days chilling under the bright blue sky and my favourite had to be Laguna Beach. Glass mansions next to quaint beach cottages line the cliffs above the sandy coves; I think a seaside house along this particularly scenic coastline would be rather lovely indeed. A little piece of paradise.

8) Get lost amongst the trees in the Big Basin Redwoods State Park

A great place for games of hide and seek. These trees are enormous! The Big Basin Redwoods State Park is the oldest State Park in California and has the largest uninterrupted strand of ancient coast redwoods south of San Francisco. 

9) Visit the eerie island ‘Alcatraz’

Alcatraz Island and Prison is one of San Francisco's most popular attractions. So if you like tourist days out this should definitely be on your list. Famous inmates included; Robert " Birdman of Alcatraz" Stroud and Al Capone. The “rock” and it’s grim past as America’s maximum security prison was certainly an interesting and thought provoking place.

10) Watch the sun set over the Bay Area in Berkeley

If you don’t mind a steep hill (or two) it’s worth trekking up to the fire trails in Berkeley. On a clear evening you can see the entire bay area – the city, the University and even the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. I went up there on my last night in California which was an excellent way to end my road trip up and down the coast with a little time to reflect and watch the sun set in the distance.

And if that wasn’t a sufficient amount of reasons as to why you should press pause on life and get on the next direct flight to California, surely living in a sandy wetsuit and pretending to be half-hippy/half-baywatch model should be incentive enough to go to lie beneath the palm trees and compare flip-flop tan lines with your friends?

DC vs NYC: The Ongoing Debate.

New York City. Where do I even begin?  The big apple. The City of Dreams. The Concrete Jungle. It’s a place I’ve dreamed of visiting since I was a little girl, and my somewhat unhealthy addiction to the TV series ‘gossip girl’ certainly didn’t help.  Why wouldn’t you want to pretend to be like the beautiful Blake Lively living on the Upper East Side with Manhattan at your doorstep? The flawless, bright shops, the bustling city life and the glamorous apartments and hotel suites. With so many films set in New York, I felt like I basically knew all about the city without even visiting it! But perhaps ‘gossip girl’ was a rather skewed version of what New York is really like, that is, unless you’re incredibly wealthy and can afford an overly extravagant lifestyle. The show basically glamorizes rather harmful behaviour, whilst portraying an unrealistic beauty ideal, and over sexualizing young girls. But, I’m diverting from the point of this blog. Before my feminist brain takes over and writes an entire piece on how television shows are misrepresenting young females, glamorizing sex and using it as a way for teenage girls to manipulate boys (or vica versa), I wanted to blog about my trip to New York and also how it compared to the nation’s capital; Washington DC.

The D.C. vs. NYC debate is one of the endless, perpetual discussions among East Coasters who seamlessly forget that there’s a world outside the little strip of Coast line from D.C. to Boston. I’ve heard it remarked upon that DC is continually overlooked by New York. Everyone raves about how fantastic New York is, from the theatre scene to the pizza and bagels, so although I my stomach was secretly in knots, excited to finally see the concrete jungle for myself, I decided to keep an open mind, and low and behold I fell in love with DC instead! Whilst it’s not like I’ve lived in both cities for a considerable amount of time and can actually make a well-educated opinion about one or the other, I can talk about my first impressions and what my expectations were.

I spent a total of three days in DC followed directly by three days in New York and I honestly wish I had more time (and money) to spend in both cities. To point out the obvious, DC has a much more chilled out vibe, it’s slower paced and the people are less frantic than in the Big Apple.  It’s filled with 20 something year old young professionals going about their day to day business, minds heavy with provoking thoughts and faces noticeably less wrinkled! Although I was only there for a short time the subtler, less obvious differences included things like the museums are all free in DC, and that the streets are super clean and lined with trees. Basically, whilst everything is a little more on the conservative side, it’s also considerably less crowed.

Even the Metro was fairly clean, which is saying something considering I’m used to the tube in London. I didn’t see a single rat and unlike NYC’s subway system there were no preachers telling me I must “follow the word of God in the sacred Bible” or beggars or even the hourly ‘show time’ with break dancers and beat boxers trying to rattle commuters for a dollar or two. The unquestionably charming townhouse-restaurants that line the streets of Georgetown add to the beauty of DC, and sitting outside overlooking the Potomac River munching away at the one of the famous DC cupcakes is definitely one way to spend a long summer’s afternoon. But, perhaps the glorious sunshine I received in Washington DC swayed my opinions as I was met with constant drizzle and cloud in NYC. Then again, I did leave my beloved pink ghd straighteners in DC (which, by the way, has been a nightmare living with beach hair the past month) so perhaps having bad hair affected my mood more than I thought!

Don’t get me wrong, I did love New York and I really want to return when I’m not on a student budget so I can stay in the Plaza hotel or the St. Regis, instead of an international hostel at the top of Central Park (although the hostel was actually rather nice as far as hostels go!) I rammed as many touristy attractions in as possible; The Empire State Building, Times Square, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, a Broadway show, the Brooklyn Bridge, the High Line, Grand Central…. And I can go on!

Special thanks to Rachael Mitchum for being an awesome travelling buddy and running round these cities like mad men on a mission with me. From losing my lock to missing subway trains, from fro-yo dates to cupcakes, in glorious sunshine and with wonky umbrellas, this girl kept me sane and kept me laughing as we re-enacted  strutting down 5^th Avenue like Carrie Bradshaw and Samantha Jones from ‘Sex and the City’.

Till next time, xoxo. 

Problems of being ‘dreadfully’ British in the US of A.

If you’re ever in doubt about your heritage, or your background, or your nationality, go spend an entire year surrounded by patriotic, nationalistic American’s. If you don’t feel a sense of pride or rather, dismay, about your home country then perhaps you haven’t been experiencing the true feelings of being abroad.

I’m trying to decide whether living in the States has made me feel more British or just simply, ‘foreign’. There’s definitely been moments where I’ve caught myself being stereotypically British, and had to just laugh at how ridiculous I sound! From pronunciations such as ‘tomarrtoo’ instead of ‘tomaaatoe’ and having sudden urges to drink gallons of Twinnings English Breakfast tea. I’ve always had people make comments such as “Alice, you are so incredibly British”. Perhaps, it’s the silly old sayings that have been engrained into my personality, such as; “spend a penny” or “Gordan Bennet!” The looks I receive off anybody and everybody are always ones of utter confusion, and I realise that to them I’m speaking utter gobbledy gook.

Spending so much time amongst Americans, whether in the classroom, at rehearsals, swim training or socialising, almost made me forget that I stood out and sounded different, with my so called ‘Prime Minister Posh’ accent. It always takes me by surprise that every server in Starbucks notices I say “Mocha” with exaggerated vowels and then persist on asking a million and one questions as to where I’m from, how long I’ve been here and what I’m doing. It got to the point during last semester where I just couldn’t be bothered to be cross examined every time I needed coffee, so I would just ask one of my American friends to order for me or fake a rather obnoxious accent. Neither worked particularly well.

Perhaps it’s my dry sense of humour that makes me feel more British. Travelling around the country and staying with some of my friends from University at home has made me realise the difference in our sense of humour. We’re incredibly sarcastic and continually ‘take the piss’ out of one another, to the point where it’s basically bullying. In the same circumstance, American’s would tend to get defensive, whilst us Brits, take it with a pinch of salt and know we’re only joking. So tongue in cheek!

The worst is when you’re texting someone. Half the time the messages I receive come across as super blunt. Which I like, to some respect. I can remember when I first arrived in the States that I was kind of shocked when I never received any kisses at the end of messages. If I just sent a text message to my friends at home saying “Where are you?” it may come across as hostile, so we tend to add kisses at the end to soften the blow. Lindsay earnestly asked me once, “why do you put all those x’s at the end of your texts?” so I had to explain why. Gosh, it’s difficult sounding sarcastic all the time and not wanting to add a silly emoticon to show I’m only messing around.

So whilst I’m not trying to lay claim that every American is loud and blunt, and all British people have a sarcastic sense of humour. I guess I’ve just realised that these obvious differences have made me feel all the more British; saying my pleases and thank-yous, apologising for almost everything and realising that if I don’t speak up, at least ten people will speak over me because almost everyone is vocal and to the point. I like it. I like it a lot. And I think I’ll be taking this new found confidence to speak up and be heard right back over the pond with me!

Not so street wise?

“Studying abroad will make you more worldly, more street wise” they said. “It will open your eyes to things you may or may not have brushed over previously”.

When I first heard this, I thought; “yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve been told all this before”. Whilst I’ll be the first to admit I’ve had a rather sheltered upbringing when it comes to violence, gun crime and gangs. I never would imagine that I could feel so out of place in stereotypically safe areas. Living on a University campus is ‘meant’ to be safe, with its own personal police system in force and emergency buttons sporadically placed all over. But with the UC Santa Barbara shootings just two weeks ago it made me reflect on my own safety, not just as a student but as a female.

After constantly travelling for the last month I have managed to see the highs and lows of many cities. But, exploring a new city with neither map nor internet usually ends in taking one wrong turn and getting lost. Just walking two blocks away from the financial district in LA made me feel vulnerable and exposed as I noticeably stood out with my blonde hair and fair skin. Furthermore, I do not advise anyone to walk around West Oakland in the dark after 10pm where abductions and kidnapping appear frequently on the news. That’s not so much fun! So Columbia, you would assume, is just as safe (or dangerous) as anywhere else. But, in actual fact, South Carolina has the nation’s fifth-highest violent crime rate, with an evident relationship between lower income and less education and higher crime rates.

Whilst waiting for a Megabus at Columbia Transit station to take me to Washington DC at 12.30am a couple of weeks ago I appeared to undergo a bit of an eye opener. It’s possibly one of the more sketchy places in town, situated next to the homeless shelter. So whilst I sat with my gigantic suitcase on a bench outside the bus station in the early hours of the morning I saw the most strange, weird and wonderful characters. Racheal and I were dropped at the station at 12.30am, with our bus due to depart at 12.45am. We had received an email stating that our bus was up to 45-60mins delayed but with no number to call we had no way to check and no other option but to wait it out. It didn’t arrive until 1.45am… so in that hour we sat and chatted in the 21 degree humidity of the night. Guys asked us for cigarettes, whether we had internet they could ‘borrow’, what we were doing and where we were going. Boys with trousers dropped half way down their bums with baggy t-shirts, boys with bikes, boys clutching plastic bags with little else. I did not feel safe. I did not feel comfortable. But, thank god Racheal was there with me. We laughed most of it off, making eye contact when they appeared in packs and keeping our personal belongings close by. Delirious and sleep deprived we longed for the safety of the bus and when it came we thanked our lucky stars for making it through the hour alive. My imagination raced as we intricately discussed what we would do if one of them had a gun, or threatened us, or tried to steal something. What if, what if, what if.

Perhaps this blog shows my naivety. Or some might call it stupidity. When I told a friend I’d got lost in West Oakland her reply was along the lines of, “Oh my god, are you serious?! I never go there; it’s filled with gangs and violence”. Whoops. Sorry mum! Of course, I’ve always kept a straight head on me, abiding by my parents cautionary warnings; “Keep an eye on your handbag,” and “Text me before I go to bed so I know what time you’ll be coming home.” So although the situations I’ve managed to get myself into this year haven’t been incredibly frightening or dangerous, they could have turned into something a whole lot worse.

I guess it’s just a matter of perspective. Or right timing, right circumstance. The students at UC Santa Barbara weren’t so fortunate. Six innocent students were killed by a 22 year old, son of assistant director of ‘The Hunger Games’, who went on a rampage of ‘revenge’ in Isla Vista after being continually rejected by girls. He created a manifesto and posted an online video stating what he intended to do; "On the day of retribution, I am going to enter the hottest sorority house at UCSB and I will slaughter every single spoiled, stuck-up, blonde slut I see inside there. All those girls I've desired so much. They have all rejected me and looked down on me as an inferior man if I ever made a sexual advance toward them, while they throw themselves at these obnoxious brutes".

I stayed on the very same street of the shootings two nights after the event, and I couldn’t help but think that if I had started my road trip down the West coast a few days earlier that I would have been there on the night of the shootings. This event came as a severe reality check. Life can be taken away from you at any given minute, and after having the best year studying abroad, it made me even more thankful for the opportunities I’ve been given and the places I’ve been able to travel to, safely.  My heart goes out to the families and friends affected by the shooting, parents who sent their children to college expecting they would return home in one piece. Gun violence has no place anywhere, least of all at schools and college campuses. I just hope America’s government will open their eyes a little to see that new laws are needed, not only to insure that these dangerous weapons are kept out of the wrong hands, but also, that an increased access to mental health services are desperately needed.

The Tennessee way: Nashville and Memphis

Home of Country music, renowned for its vibrant music and entertainment scene and known on the map as a centre of the music industry, earning it the nickname "Music City", I immediately fell in love with the bright lights of Nashville. Although, it was a little on the touristy side for my taste, the gorgeous girls sauntering around in cowboy boots and floaty dresses singing Shania Twain in the bars had me hooked at “Hello sweetheart”. Every bar was buzzing with musicians performing at all hours of the day and night – guys wearing flat caps strumming country music on their guitars and girls in garish red cowboy boots jamming away on violins – there was never a dull moment. Of course the cuisine was just as I expected; deep fried and full fat. But after living in the South for an entire year I’ve come to love the ‘wholesome’ home Southern cooking. Although, upon my return to old blighty I’ll be strictly eating steamed vegetables to bring my cholesterol levels back down to normal. The hostel we stayed in was particularly fab, and despite the squeaky bunk beds I managed to pass out each night in a rather timely manner.

I visited Nashville with a few other British exchange students who had also been studying abroad at South Carolina. Whilst in Nashville we peered into the Ryman Auditorium (which was home to the Grand Ole Opry until 1974 when the show moved to the Grand Ole Opry House), we danced the night away in numerous music clubs and honky-tonk bars in downtown Nashville, ogling at the young, good looking musicians (side note: why is it that when a guy plays the guitar he becomes immediately more attractive?!) and we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Although the museum was mainly aimed at tourists it held a wide collection of crazy goofy costumes that country stars such as Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton had worn through the years and a range of props, shoes, and records. My favourite item was probably Taylor Swift’s incredibly sparkly guitar covered in silver sequins! There was even a hands on exhibit where you could record your own country song and design your own personal record cover – mine and Eveie’s version of “We are never ever getting back together” by Taylor Swift was particularly tuneful and I’m sure will be making its debut online in the near future!

Whilst in Tennessee, we decided to make the two hour trip over to Memphis – home of the blues! With only 24 hours to squeeze everything we wanted to see into a hectic schedule we somehow managed to cram all the touristy activities in. We spent the morning exploring Graceland – the home of Elvis Presley – which was as lavish as you would imagine! Fit with mirrored ceilings and shag carpets, this 70s style décor was as over the top as you’d expect. Numerous friends recommended dining at ‘Central BBQ’ in Memphis as the city prides itself on its delicious pulled pork sandwich – more mouth-wateringly healthy fried food for my ever growing belly – thank you America! After re-energising myself on BBQ we visited the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Hotel, the site where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot. I was incredibly impressed with the museum and could have easily spent all day in there reading the wealth of information and sources that had been complied. After such a serious museum experience we lightened our moods with a trip down Beale street. Lined with bars and people casually sitting on the sidewalk drinking beer from plastic cups, live music spilled from each club, whilst the remains of smoky barbecue wafted in the breeze. Apparently Beale street is the most visited attraction in the State of Tennessee - alive with blues, jazz, rock 'n' roll, R&B, soul and gospel. The sunshine burnt our skin as we sat and watched the Beale Street Flippers acrobat down the street, flipping left, right and centre. After Memphis, we headed back for one last night in Nashville before parting separate ways for the rest of our summer travels. Oh what a life this is! Oh to be forever young, free and fun! I certainly could get used to this travelling malarkey, exploring new places and finding cherished treasures untold!

South Carolina Plantations: Boone Hall

Right from the very beginning of the year I knew that one of the things on my Year Abroad Bucket list was to visit a Plantation House in South Carolina. I’m sure that for many people the word ‘Plantation’ is synonymous with slavery and the pre-Civil War era. But, without dwelling on America’s harrowing past I decided I wanted to visit a real plantation to see the history and reflect for myself.  

With over hundreds of plantations to choose from, I was kind of spoilt for choice. In the end I decided on Boone Hall in Charleston. Boone Hall Plantation is one of America's oldest working plantations; it has been continually growing crops for over 320 years!

The large Colonial Revival plantation house was built in the 193Os and replaces the original antebellum house. On my visit I found out that it’s actually the fourth house to stand on the plantation grounds, the original dating back to 1790.

What made Boone Hall stand out was the fact that there are nine original slave cabins still on the property. Although an exact date of construction is not known, it is estimated that they were built between 1790 and 1810. All of the cabins are built of brick which was probably made on the plantation brickyard and they sit in a row along the Avenue of Oaks.

When you enter the property you have to drive down a breath taking, long, straight driveway with live oak trees engrossing the path either side with branches intertwining as Spanish moss drapes down from the leaves. The slave cabins are arguably the first thing you notice upon entering the plantation, and it has been disputed amongst historians that this was a way for the owner of the plantation to show off his wealth.

The weather was incredibly warm for the beginning of May and the girls and I strolled through the beautiful gardens and took in the history. Boone Hall has now become somewhat of a desirable location for filming and high class events, for example, it is most recognisable as Allie’s house in the film The Notebook and has held private events such as Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively’s wedding.

I thoroughly enjoyed my historical day trip out, but, after all the lessons, the learning about Boone Hall and the workings of a Carolina Plantation, I still felt like there was a piece of the story missing. Something a little eerie. So whilst I viewed some of the buildings and immersed myself into discussions about how a plantation ran and what crops were grown on it, I couldn’t help but think I was getting a tainted perspective. I was only learning the information the tour guides wanted to share, the history they were told to give. So what about all the untold stories? What about all the voices and opinions of those too low down on the social scale to be noticed? Because, after all, that’s where the real stories lie. 

Easter Weekend in Virginia

With one week to go before I pack up my suitcases and clean my little dorm room here in South Carolina, I guessed it was about time to get back on my blog and start documenting some of my final thoughts and memories. Perhaps, I’m just trying to procrastinate from the mountain of essays that need to be completed in the next week and the hotels and flights I’m still yet to book for my travels, but if I’m planning on sitting in my pyjamas all day eating Trader Joe’s cookie butter out the jar with a very large spoon, I might as well blog at the same time!

You will all be ecstatic, I’m pretty sure of it, to know that I’ve managed to cross off another State last weekend when I was invited home by one of my swimming team mates, Caroline, to Virginia. To say that life has been manic this past month would be a massive understatement. So when Caroline kindly asked if I wanted to venture up to Virginia for Easter weekend I jumped at the opportunity!

Virginia’s mountainous landscape was absolutely beautiful, surrounded by deciduous and evergreen trees. We went hiking on a part of the Blue Ridge Mountain Ridgeway, ate until our stomachs hurt and copiously laughed throughout the weekend. Caroline’s family had recently inherited a lake house on Smith Mountain Lake so I was fortunate enough to get to visit the house on the lake as well. To make the trip even better, Caroline and I went jet skiing! Although it was a little nippy, Caroline acted as my wind shield as I frantically wrapped my arms around her waist holding on for dear life as we sped off into the distance. Who needs a boyfriend to cuddle when Caroline’s around? Although, I’m sure our swim team mates would agree Caroline is not one for cuddling. At every swim meet we’ve attended this year, Caroline and I always end up sharing rooms and I get the same amount of grief from her every time. “Alice you better stick to your side of the bed”, then “Did you just touch me with your foot”, but I just want to cuddle Caroline! It’s actually rather funny! Who would have thought back in August when I met this blonde babe on poolside for the first swim training session of the year that come the end of year we would have become such close friends? This year abroad has truly been made special by the wonderful people I’ve befriended, and I’m sure without them I would have had a very different kind of year.

I don’t want to get too soppy. After all, I still have another month or so left in the States. But, with attending my very last class at this University on Monday I can’t help but reflect what a fun adventure I’ve had thus far. So before I reach for the tissue box and organise my last farewells, I know the friendships I’ve made here in Columbia will continue to thrive long after my Year Abroad ends. That is, as long as I actually get a job after completing my degree so I can afford little trips over the pond! 

Southern Hospitality

Before I moved to the South, I was informed by friends and family to embrace ‘the Southern hospitality’. This phrase is generally used to describe the stereotypical warm, sweet, and welcoming nature of Southerners, and has definitely been out in full force throughout the course of my Year Abroad.

A couple of weeks ago, after a stressfully long rehearsal, my close friend Rachael and I, decided that we were in need of a large glass (or four) of wine to accompany our girlie downtime. We went to the local ‘liquor’ store near campus and were pondering, as you do, over which bottle to choose. Red or white? Dry or Fruity? Merlot or Shiraz? Cheap or Expensive? Screw top or Cork? As we chatted and debated over what bottle best fitted our current mood, Rachael realised we would have to purchase a screw top because her ex-boyfriend stole their bottle opener when he moved out. Just typical! All the screw top bottles were so much more expensive. How selfish of him! As we cursed Jeff for taking the bottle opener, another woman paced the red wine aisle, looking for the perfect bottle. We finally agreed on a delicious Merlot, slightly more than we were willing to pay, but without a bottle opener we didn’t have much choice. Upon reaching the ‘check-out’ line, the same woman who had previously been in the red wine aisle approached Rachael and I and bluntly claimed; “Girls, I am going to buy you two a bottle opener”. After a few moments of delayed confusion, she continued; “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about Jeff, so I’m going to buy you a wine corkscrew”. Apparently, she had recently read an article about going out your way to help total strangers and she was waiting for her ‘good Samaritan’ moment. We laughed, we smiled, and gratefully accepted her offer. Although, I doubt she was going to let us say no. “So you never have to buy a screw top again!” she continued, “This can be your ‘screw Jeff’ bottle opener”. After profusely thanking her, I realised she was just one of many American’s I’ve met that fit this stereotype of ‘Southern hospitality’. So, not only is Rachael now the proud new owner of a fab bottle opener, the wine tasted ten times nicer because of her spontaneous act of kindness. Turns out there are some lovely strangers in the least expected places!  

My Grandma

I’ve been wanting to write this blog post for a while now but I could never really find the words. Death makes people act in peculiar ways. Some people cry, some question, some bottle it all up. At first, I asked myself whether a post like this was fitting on Year Abroad blog. My Grandma never visited South Carolina; in fact, I don’t even think she ever had the chance to come to the States at all. So how could a post purely based on my Grandma have anything to do with the culture shock I endure pretty much every other day?

Well, here’s the thing; my Grandma was a very kind, generous and loving lady, whom which I was rather fond of. Even writing the word ‘was’ hurts. She inspired us all to do our best and take every opportunity life throws at you. So when she passed away a few weeks ago whilst I was over 4000 miles away from home it really affected my Year Abroad experience. It’s been a challenging few weeks, to say the least. Not only have I been training for Swim Club Nationals in Atlanta, rehearsing for the Musical ‘Legally Blonde’, studying, reading, competing and socialising, I’ve also been grieving and had to take a week out my hectic schedule to fly back to London.

The feelings of guilt, uselessness and sadness have been constantly at the back of my mind. Whilst Skype is a fantastic invention, there’s nothing quite like walking through arrivals at Heathrow and being greeted with massive hugs from both your parents. The fact that I was at home this time last week seems totally bizarre. Now I’m back in sunny South Carolina, my short trip home feels even more make-believe and surreal.

The funeral was a beautiful service. And although I sat and cried throughout most of it, I somehow managed to compose myself (for all of three minutes), stand up in front of the odd 100 people at the service and sing. It was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But, it was a perfect way to say goodbye. There’s not really much more I can say. I originally started to write this blog with the intention to update my friends and family back home with my American life, so I felt that I couldn’t really miss an event like this off the list. I thought I’d end this post with the last part of my mum’s speech – she was so eloquent, and so brave, therefore, it seems fitting.

‘My mum was:

                A granddaughter

                a daughter,

                a supportive sister,

                a loyal cousin,

                a loving wife,

                an interested  great-aunt,

                a wonderful mother,

                a generous auntie

                a thoughtful mother in law

                an awesome grandma

                and a kind, tactful friend

                my extraordinary brave mum.’

Jill Overall

18th September 1937 - 17th March 2014

The Club Room: Filming Project.

I was recently asked to take part in an interview style video documentary about the differences between the US and UK.

Here is the outcome, enjoy!

Spring Break: Panama City Beach, Florida.

Named as the so-called ‘Spring Break Capital of the World’, I knew I was in for a treat as I embarked on my first, and last, spring break to Panama City Beach, Florida. It did not disappoint! In fact, despite it being voted as one of the trashiest places to go on college vacation we had one hell of a week partying in true American style – red cups included, of course.

To help all you Brits at home imagine the utter madness and explicit chaos that surfaces during spring break, think of a Greek party island…. Now times that by ten. Previously described as making ‘European destinations like Malia look as tranquil as Old Town Venice’, Panama City Beach was the picture of Zante on steroids. Thousands upon thousands of college students from all over the States gathered on the Gulf Coast to ‘let loose’ in what can only be described in the style of a social mob-scene.

Empty beer cans, keg stands and twerk contests filled the white strip of sand as girls pranced around in their Victoria Secret bikinis, luminous visors and bum bags, violently clutching onto scared alcohol induced bottles of intoxication. Guys unable to walk in straight lines donned heinous looking t-shirts with slogans such as ‘Spring Break Bitches’ and ‘What happens on Spring Break stays in Spring Break’ with Hawaiian Flower Lei necklaces and Ray Bans, shouted obscene remarks to every girl they laid their eyes on, slapping bums and staring at the bare flesh on show. Perhaps they were laughing at all those dodgy spray tans! But, then again, they probably weren’t.

As if the 9 hour drive on the other side of the road wasn’t difficult enough for us Brits, squashing multiple people into our hotel apartment every night seemed a doddle compared to the war zone we were greeted with on the beach. With my jaw dragging far behind me in the sand, words failed me as I witnessed the unthinkable and saw things I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase from my visual memory. Twerking competitions. Yes, actual competitions on a risen stage where girls (all shapes and sizes) got down to the beat, shaking their behind to a roaring crowd. You could not pay me large amounts of love and money to do anything as degrading as that. It was basically a live, free, outdoors strip club with girls flashing, shaking, and grinding. If only their parents knew… There was certainly very little left to the imagination.

Instead of the usual sandcastles and odd looking mermaid with seaweed for hair carved into the sand that you’d expect to see on a beach holiday, sandcastle competitions were swapped with beer pong battles and huge alcohol-filled pits lined the shoreline. Alongside the sandy beer pong tables and colourful beer coolers, Fraternity flags plastered the beach – each one forced into the ground to show they survived the antics from the night before.

The night clubs were another ball game altogether, my favourite was obviously Club La Vela - billed as the largest nightclub in the United States, it had countless rooms to cater to everyone’s taste, from hip hop to country, pop to house, trance to rock – there was even a pool! Not to mention a live performance from Lil Jon himself. It’s safe to safe my liver is still feeling wounded, but we got the stereotypical Spring Break we were after. Eat, Sleep, Rave, Repeat = ‘Pardy in da USAY’. 

USCDM Video

No picture or video can do this weekend justice, but with that said, here are a few clips at various different stages of the 24 hours. Energy to delirious exhaustion.... 

Dance Marathon

This semester seems to be absolutely flying by at the speed of light, there’s only 6 weeks left of term! How did this happen? Hopefully I will still have some money left in my bank account so that I can do some travelling before I leave the States and wave farewell to my Year Abroad. But, I’ve been avoiding checking my bank balance for a while now, so I could be in for a shock!

I cannot recommend studying abroad enough to anyone who has the opportunity or is currently thinking about it. It really is a chance to immerse yourself in a completely different culture, meet people from all over the world and personally challenge yourself to do more and accomplish lifelong skills. I feel like I’ve been on an emotional journey of euphoria, hostility, acceptance and finally mastery (I’m just dreading the reverse culture shock!)

When friends and family told me I’d find myself doing things I thought unimaginable, I didn’t quite believe them. Before I left home in August some wise guy told me that on my Year Abroad I should say ‘Yes’ to every opportunity thrown my way. This resulted in the crazy decision to take part in a DANCE MARATHON and stay up for 24 hours straight. Dance Marathon is a very American fundraising event and was started by Pennsylvania State University in the 1970s in order to raise money to combat children’s cancer, and has since become the largest student-run philanthropy in the world! Now, Universities across the States, like South Carolina, hold their own Dance Marathon fundraiser every year. All the money raised by South Carolina goes towards a local children’s hospital, Palmetto Health Children's Hospital, and during the 24 hours we got to meet some of the miracle children who had survived their own battle against cancer and other life threatening diseases.

Fit with my pink nike ‘tennis shoes’ and DM baggy t-shirt, I felt oddly nervous the morning before the event. Noon till noon, no sitting down allowed, that weekend became the most physically and mentally demanding challenges I’ve ever undergone. Literally blood, sweat and tears were poured into this event, I cried out of exhaustion, out of pain, out of sadness and I honestly could not have done it without my gorgeous friends boogying alongside me!

I entered the event with some of my beautiful musical theatre friends, I’m still not sure how I persuaded them to put up with me for an entire 24 hours and swap their character shoes for trainers. But I did, and I’m so grateful. The weekend consisted of learning an entire 15 minute line dance mash-up of songs and genres, which we then performed on the hour, every hour. There was also a 3 hour white out rave between 11pm-2am, numerous bands and dj sets, speakers and dance troupe performers. Plus, wacky costume hours, such as; Animal theme, Mardi Gras, and of course ‘America’.  I managed to raise $300 and together South Carolina raised a whopping $318,649, I couldn’t be prouder of my friends and I, and I’m so glad I was able to take part in such a unique fundraising event.

Dance Marathon Sign Up

Yesterday I found myself a little mind boggled when I had to sign in for the challenge that is ahead of me this weekend, aka the 24 hour dance marathon (which it isn’t too late to still sponsor me for guys!) What threw me at the sign in desk was that fact that I had to give an emergency contact name and number. Naturally, I thought of my mum. But on second thought, I was a little baffled as to why exactly they need my street address from back home in ‘Old Blighty’. I mean, I guess I can understand giving a phone number, although it would be expensive to call, if some sort of disaster happened, I’d want someone to call home. And I can even comprehend an email address considering today’s obsession over the internet and social media. But address? Really? Honestly, what exactly do they need my address for? If I pass out from exhaustion over the weekend from dancing are they actually going to write a letter to my mum and send it in the post to let her know? I think not.

On a side note, if you wish to sponsor me as I stay up for 24 hours bootie shaking like Beyonce, pirouetting like Darcey Bussell and finger snapping like Fosse. All the money raised goes towards a local children’s hospital, and the exchange rate is pretty good at the moment ($10 = £5.99). The link to my page is below, wish me luck! 

http://www.helpmakemiracles.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&participantID=263183

Asheville

This weekend I managed to tick off another State by taking a girls trip up to the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina. Home to the annual electronic-music festival ‘Moogfest’, Asheville is set in the heart of the Smoky Mountains and prides itself on a thriving arts and music scene all year round. Some of the other international students managed to visit this quirky town in the Fall and whilst some went for the fresh mountain air, others visited for the ‘vibe’. Apparently the town is most commonly portrayed as having a ‘funky’ ambience and even after strolling around for just one day you can definitely see why. Maybe it has something to do with the small fact that pretty much nobody in Asheville is actually from Asheville, so this Southern town feels a little misplaced. Or perhaps it’s the mixture of breweries, secret cafes, dozens of art galleries and variety of street performers. After recently having a bit of a cold spell in South Carolina, the sunshine made a welcomed appearance and nearly every street corner was lined with musicians playing their hearts out whilst basking in the sun. We even sat outside for lunch!

One of my favourite things about the city were the individual and unique cafes and shops.  We stopped for a coffee break in a double decker red bus (supposedly all the way from Trafalgar Square!) that had been converted into a one off café – I thought it was pretty cool anyway. Some of the breweries had bizarre names; including ‘Wicked Weed’ and we somehow stumbled into a book shop/bar which was definitely not a place to find shabby paperbacks. The English Lit student in me was thrilled that such a place existed where two of my favourite pastimes (reading and drinking wine) could co-exist in perfect matrimony. Never-read leather-bound volumes of Dickens ($435 for a set!), an edition of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ with the carousel horse cover ($200), and a glass of fizzy Heidsieck & Co. Monopole ($15) would go down a treat! The bookshelves were piled high and you could easily get yourself lost in a maze of book-lined nooks and crannies whilst kicking back in mission-style sofas and leather armchairs hidden amongst your favourite authors. A literature student’s heaven!

Apart from wandering the streets of downtown Asheville, we also took a trip to the Looking Glass Falls in the Pisgah National Forest, which was absolutely beautiful. I felt like I could have been Katniss Everdeen from ‘The Hunger Games’, which was shot in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Asheville.

All in all, a perfect weekend, with lovely company and ever so slightly too much food! When will I learn that the portions out here are almost double in size and I don’t have to eat everything on my plate?!

St. Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day: similar to Marmite in that you probably love it, or loath it. A day to overspend on loved ones, or indeed, ‘the one’, Valentines can end up turning into a living nightmare for chocoholics, singles or indeed those in long standing relationships. But instead of face planting into a bowl of calories and girlie chick flicks, isn’t it time to just appreciate those we care about?

With so much hype centred around this idea that you have to be in ‘love’ to enjoy Valentine’s Day and if you’re single you must fit the stereotype of being downright depressed, drinking wine by the gallon and tucking into your second tub of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough by 7pm, it can be easy to miss the point of St. Valentine entirely.

For the past two Valentine’s Day’s my boyfriend at the time completely forgot to even send me a card! Two years in a row! Instead, I had to answer the front door to beautiful bouquets being delivered to not one, but both of my single housemates. That was enough to send anyone out their right mind! So I’ve come to the conclusion that if no one loves you on Valentine’s day, they probably don’t like you any other day of the year either, cynical I know!

I’m overly excited to see how America handles this consumer driven, cliché day. Obnoxious looking cards are plastered in every store, hideous oversized teddy bears and chocolates wrapped in love heart shaped boxes almost make me happy that I’m single. Arguably, being single on Valentine’s Day is actually a blessing in disguise, I’ve been invited to so many themed events that I’m struggling to plan how to fit them all in! From a typical American ‘Singles Awareness’ evening, fit with a piñata (of course!), to a ‘Galentine’s’ evening (girls only) with copious amounts of home baked goodies and films. Other options include, raiding the single population of Columbia’s downtown, watching an annual performance of Eve Ensler's award winning play ‘The Vagina Monologues’ or simply going to IHOP with my best friend for heart shaped pancakes. I’m totally spoilt for choice!

One of the things I love about Valentine’s Day is that if you look carefully enough, there’s a particular facial expression that you will only ever see on February 14^th. It’s the smug look of guys exchanging shrugging grins with other males clutching flowers and boxes of chocolates. Whilst everyone recognises the innate ludicrousness of a single day where guys are expected to buy their secret admirer or better half flowers and/or chocolates (conspiracy spearheaded by Hallmark?). If you look past all the consumerism, you’ll see blokes jumping at the chance to tell that said person how much they mean to them, and who said romance was dead? A bit of guts and glory chivalry can go a long way!

So whilst we can’t all be treated like a princess for 24 hours and expect Ryan Gosling to come sweep us off our feet, maybe it’s time to step out the comfort zone, if only for a moment, to tell that person in your Chemistry class you actually would like to grab a coffee together.    Instead of staying camouflaged behind the safety net of your iphone, impassively swiping through apps like Tinder, or spending hours on Facebook day dreaming about the girl who lives next door. I’m sure Shakespeare is rolling in his grave at the lack of grand gestures and manly courage, maybe we should take a note out of his book this V-day and simply remember that ‘The course of true love did never run smooth’… 

Swimming Stateside

Symptoms of a swimmer: sweating chlorine, dry scaly skin and permanent goggle marks.

As a ‘retired’ swimmer, 5am starts and endless training sessions are a thing of the past. But it appears that some habits die hard. With my dorm room beginning to smell more and more like a swimming pool every day and chlorine chemicals becoming embedded into my skin, the competitive swimmer I used to be seems to be making reappearance with my thirst to get back in the pool and get in shape.

The phrase “I can’t, I have swim training” is one I consistently over-used growing up. Parties, days out, trips to the cinema and endless other weekend activities were always put on hold when swimming was on the cards. Now, I find myself stumbling over the exact same words when other students ask me to grab dinner or go down town. What is happening?

One of the biggest differences between the University of Kent and the University of South Carolina is the sports facilities. The fact that I can train 9 times a week, every week, with an actual team and go as much or as little as I want is amazing! Kent up your game! I cannot articulate clearly enough how big college sports is in the USA. A business worth billions of dollars, it makes its money from attendance at sports events, sponsorship and TV rights. It’s no wonder that the Universities here have the money to invest in top athletic facilities and coaching for their students.

With all these extra training sessions I decided that competing may not be entirely out the picture. At the weekend I travelled to Athens, GA where The University of Georgia campus is situated. The pool was undeniably amazing (yet another small reminder of Kent’s lack of facilities)! I swam in both the Free and Medley Relays and surprised myself in ranking second in both the 50 and 100 Breast. A worthy effort for an ‘old timer’!

Whilst I haven’t quite got to the stage where my swim suit is constantly rubbing my neck and giving me obnoxious looking ‘love bites’, I know that my childhood sport will probably always stay with me. Even when I can no longer go sub 27 seconds for 50 free, I am constantly reminded by the fact that I can never fit into the tops I want to wear with my ‘swimmer shoulders’ and always seem run out of conditioner before my shampoo is half empty. #swimmerproblems.

#neknominate

Binge drinking seems to have taken a step too far this week with social media going crazy over a so called ‘game’; ‘neknominate’. The game reportedly started in Australia and has since gone global. It encourages friends to ‘nek’ or ‘down’ a beer, (or in some cases a dirty pint filled with all sorts of concoctions) film it, upload the video to Facebook and nominate two friends to do the same thing. If you break the chain and don’t succumb to peer pressure you lose respect from these ‘supposed friends’. By nominating friends online, the videos spread like wildfire with people creating short films of themselves drinking half naked in the Alps, underwater, upside down or even ‘neking’  a pint right before doing a bungee jump. While some may see this only as a game, and call me boring, a spoil-sport, a push over, or any other name for that matter, drinking large volumes of alcohol in a short period of time can have very scary and very real consequences. In the UK this weekend, two boys aged 22 and 19 have died after taking part in this ‘game’. We should be questioning this!

Trust me, I like to go out and have fun like many other students my age, I do not condone drinking alcohol in proportion. But binge drinking? Drinking to excess? Drinking past your limits? To show off? Something doesn’t quite add up here. The really scary part is that because this ‘game’ is all online, the added peer pressure is enormous. Everyone on Facebook can see your nomination and how you respond. If you fail to complete the challenge, make it funny or different, then suddenly you become the characterless, dull friend in your friendship group. Moreover, because you have to respond to the nomination within 24 hours, there is an added time pressure. Not only do you have to decide if you want to give in to your bullying friends, you also have to think of a way to be inventive and how you’re supposed to down a pint in between your classes, rehearsals, sports training, meetings or whatever other commitments you have in those 24 hours.

Surely there is another way for people to show they’re loving life and up for challenges? This game has almost normalised and celebrated the binge drinking culture, forcing people to surrender to nothing more than intimidating friends to make it seem like they are incessantly partying. In my opinion, this copy-cat game is not only pathetic, but extremely dangerous, and needs strong minded people to turn around and simply say no.

Sexed-up Society

After two days off school due to the rare sighting of snow in South Carolina, going back to lessons at 10am yesterday morning was a bit of a struggle to say the least. But as my fellow class mates slowly pondered into our lesson, frozen and sleepy, everyone seemed wide awake when our teacher announced that our lesson was going to be on ‘sex’, focusing especially on how women are portrayed as sexual objects in the media.

The media obsess about women’s bodies and how we’re supposed to preen ourselves to look a certain way. Every product in the cosmetics aisles promises clearer skin, shinier hair and fuller lips. Society tells us that if we don’t look a certain way we won’t be successful and we won’t end up with the ‘right’ kind of man.

It wasn’t that long ago that the fashion industry started using computer-generated mannequin bodies with real women's heads to advertise their products online. Each model had the same curve in the waist, the same arc of the hand, and the same wash-board stomach. Only when you line them up alongside one another does it become blaringly obvious that they are actually unnatural computer-generated mannequins with the heads of real models. Makes us all seem like dummies really! But the scary fact is that society kind of just accepts it, somehow it’s become ‘normal’ to use artificial images of women. Because, after all, don’t we all strive for that impossible perfection?

Beyonce has become the ultimate portrayal of this ‘perfection’. But what message is she really sending out to young girls? At the 2014 Grammy Awards on Sunday, arguably the biggest night in the music industry, Queen Bey chair danced alongside her husband, rapper Jay Z, in one of her hottest outfits yet. But leaving little to the imagination in a skimpy, strappy, extremely seductive tight black thong bodysuit, made me (the rest of my class) question why?.... Simply because sex sells! And not only this, even if we don’t have Beyonce’s body, vocal skills or swagger – she teaches young girls that the only way to be successful is to dress provocatively. In stark contrast, hubby Jay Z was dressed in the most expensive looking suit I’ve ever seen. Why is it that men don’t have to dress the same way as women in order to be seen and heard? This power couple dominates the media, sending alarming messages to young girls, but also showing men that if you dress a certain way you can get a girl like Bey.

I feel like complaining about the sexualisation of women in magazines and the media is as common as complaining about the weather. But if it’s such a hot topic, why is nothing being changed? It’s been drilled into our society that girls have to be beautiful and sexy in order to get above the rest. Women have always been portrayed as sex objects, but just far will the media push this? Celebrities posing semi-nude on the front of men’s magazines looks like straight up porn! When are we going to be seen as something other than our exterior?  Just some food for thought.