During sophomore year when it comes time to make the final decisions about where to study abroad, most students already know where they are headed; in fact, they have known for years. This was definitely the case with me: I was going to Paris first semester and then Buenos Aires second. I had prepared for this and had appropriately taken enough French and Spanish to be able to do this. But when the time finally came, "love" (or something like it) drew me away from these places as I followed my significant other to the far-away continent of Australia.
Obviously, this was a poor decision, and like all other stories you've probably heard of someone making such a huge decision for someone else, it blew up in my face. So, I had a decision to make: continue with my plan to go to Australia or attempt something else last minute. Six weeks later I was standing in the Melbourne airport with the faint lyrics of the Dixie Chick's "Cold Day in July" in my mind, as I looked out the windows at the rain and slush everywhere outside. Had I made a mistake? Well, as it turns out, probably. But it's only now, a year after that day in the Melbourne airport that I really know why.
I spent nearly eight months in Oz. This is a pretty long time to be all the way on the other side of the world, especially since the final three months of it I was alone, and traveling with some random people I had picked up along the way. Late in January, I suddenly realized that I was not enrolled anywhere for that semester and in a rash move got the next flight home. Three weeks later, Spanish practice books under my arm, I embarked on my flight from Dallas, Texas to Santiago, Chile. This was by far the best decision I have ever made in my life.
In Chile, seeing starving, homeless animals on the streets was a common everyday event. So was winding through crowded streets breathing in heavy unbearable smog just to get on a crowded bus where I would inevitably get lost and whistled at. So was keeping a lemon in my backpack so that if the police sprayed tear gas at the protestors in the universities, I could squirt some lemon juice in my eyes in order to physically pass.
Other common events were having lunch with my Chilean family, becoming proficient in another language, learning to rely on only myself when I thought I couldn't stand being in a place that different anymore, incredible talks of politics and anarchy, drinking the best boxed wine I've ever had in the park at 3 a.m., going to illegal bars, and cruising around with a guy named Fernando who carried a fiddle with him at all times and slept in the streets.
In Australia, drinking at 4 p.m. after class was more than common. Hitting up the bars to see the same Americans (and yes, have fun with them) was an every night event. So was living with a group of Americans, going to the beach, speaking English, getting yelled at for being "pro-Bush," watching the Simpsons and doing my homework.
These two experiences are not the same, and the locations should not even be in the same heading of "study abroad programs" but indeed, people do not realize the inherent differences and therefore possible regrets in them.
I hope that students can stop glamorizing the fun aspects of going to a place like Australia and realize that while having fun is obviously great, there are so many more amazing opportunities out there that go beyond just having fun and making great American friends, and go into the realm of real satisfaction that will continue to impact your life for years to come.
My two study abroad experiences were very different and extremely worthwhile. I wonder, what will I remember in 20 years, six months, two weeks? I doubt it will be all those fun times spent at the pub in Oz with my all-American buds drinking Victoria Bitters and watching Aussie Rules Footy (or even the World Series). It is completely possible to have a great experience studying for one semester in a place where Fun is the main objective.
But when sophomores or even freshmen ask me about my experience, I just wish they would know about this deep not-often-discussed difference in abroad programs and locations; this difference that so starkly contrasted my first eight months to my final five; and, this difference that often makes me so angry that I spent first semester essentially on vacation.
