Big Uni on the Prairie (State)

(UIUC Quad)

Don’t you worry guys! I’m back- blog number 5 is underway. This is where the tricky part comes in as I now have the mammoth task of documenting a whole year of American University life in a variety of blogs. “But Hannah- how are you going to categorise these blogs!?” I hear you ask with ardent concern. Well, I could do it month-by-month… Although I don’t organise my memories monthly unfortunately- I’m just not that organised, nor does my brain physically allow me to do that. I could blog completely at random with no sense of chronology, but to be blunt- that sounds shit. So I’ve settled on compartmentalising the University experience into; American People/Culture, American Sport, American Food, American College Life and the various places and travelling I did (Chicago, St Louis, Montreal, New York, Memphis, San Francisco, La Vegas, LA, Grand Canyon, Orlando, Daytona Beach, Savannah, Charleston, Washington DC, Boston- doing the length and width of American on trains and greyhounds and going through Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania- I was INCREDIBLY lucky with all the travelling I got to do, and don’t worry, I won’t do an individual blog on each place, not even I have that much patience.) But to start you all off, I’ll let this blog serve as an introduction to my year in America. You know, lay a foundation for my mini-series of American University life.

In order to explain how I landed on American Studies for my degree, I need to indulge you all in my childhood hopes and dreams (shit, this is getting deep isn’t it. You’re really getting into the inner workings of Hannah now.) So, I was the kind of kid that changed their career aspiration nearly every month, and I certainly had some seriously random ambitions when I was younger. Initially, I wanted to be a dancer-a pretty standard aspiration for someone who starts dancing at the age of 4. This swiftly transformed into wanting to be a vet- again, a pretty solid and normal career choice. Then, by the age of 9, I laughed in the face of normality and had my heart set on being an archaeologist. Where I plucked this aspiration from I’ll never know, maybe it was too much Indiana Jones or maybe it was just because I loved being outdoors- but whatever the root cause of this bizarre 9 year old career aspiration- I would sit outside for hours with a dustpan and brush, sweeping away at the mud in the back garden in the desperate hope that I would unearth some rare Cambridgeshire fossil that would change the face of archaeology forever (I aspired hard.) This ambition lasted a fair while until I took a complete U-turn and wanted to be a sports physiotherapist. I’ve always been the biggest sports fan but this dream job was mainly sparked by the 2003 Rugby World Cup. It appears I was rather impressionable at a young age. Now, I stuck at this aspiration for a long time, probably until the end of secondary school. It evolved yet again however, when I started doing AS Level Psychology and therefore aimed to become a child psychologist. This I took a little more seriously and even got some work experience under my belt in the Psychology Research Department at Addenbrookes Hospital. This career goal was only in its infancy when I upped and changed my mind yet again- this time wanting to work for UNICEF. I’ve always loved travelling and having taken a trip to South Africa to do some work at primary schools I toyed with the idea of working for a large charity organisation. This quickly transformed into wanting to work for the UN and I batted the two ideas back and forth throughout Sixth Form. Now, I realise you didn’t ask for any of that prior information BUT the point I’ve so ineloquently been trying to make, is that I never knew what I wanted to do and so when picking a degree choice I settled on American Studies because it involved travel and it was a ridiculously interdisciplinary course. I really want to avoid sounding like one of those exerts from a University magazine, but all I will say is that people hear the course title ‘American Studies’ and laugh- automatically assuming it’s firstly, complete nonsense, and secondly- piss easy. Both couldn’t be further from the truth to be honest though. If someone told you they were doing an English Literature degree, no one would laugh or question the level of ease, quite the contrary in fact. Likewise with History, Political Theory, Thought and Culture, Cultural History or even Social Theory. Well all of those are American Studies, the only difference is that it obviously pertains to America. I’m sure you can tell we American Studies graduates are very protective of our course!

So basically, we needed to get 55 overall in first and second year and we were guaranteed a place at an American University. We then listed our top 5 Universities and waited with baited breath to see if we’d been accepted (it felt like that whole sodding UCAS malarkey again.) But then, I got an email through- first choice- accepted- congrats Hannah- you’re off to University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign for the year! And the lovely thing was, 10 other fellow Nottinghamers had also been accepted to the University, so I’d have some familiar faces to surround me whilst at my home away from home.

Fast-forwarding through all that VISA, DS-1232436465567454, I-94, DAKDMSFJG£$^&££ documentation and I was good to go. August 19^th 2011 at the airport with two precariously overweight suitcases, a tired, makeupless face (there’s a pattern emerging with how I look when I travel isn’t there?) and a laptop the size of a TV ready to be argued as my carry on- majority of the Nottinghamers boarded a flight to O’Hare, Chicago, IL. I feel flight details are pretty unnecessary so I’ll whizz through that; sat next to a guy from MIT, watched Water for Elephants (really not raving,) and played solitaire on my iPod. Touching down in O’Hare, the fellow Nottinghamers and I giddily got off the plane, compared how mug shot-like our individual VISA photographs were and had our finger prints scanned and photos taken (of course a highly unattractive one again.) After baggage reclaim we were incredibly pushed for time and all had to run at full speed through the airport, onto an airtram/train/gliding thing on tracks, randomly run through the entrance of a Hilton Hotel and get to the ‘Illini Shuttle’ stop. We all made it, and I kid you not, with 2 minutes to spare. I can honestly say that I don’t think I’ve ever been in as much pain or struggled as much when running in my entire life. Not only did I have my overly packed TWO suitcases (so yes, I was dragging them behind me with each hand) – I also had an 18 inch laptop in a 20 inch laptop case strung across one shoulder, IN ADDITION to a large Nike duffle bag which was my carryon (stuffed with all those bits and pieces I couldn’t fit in my bursting suitcases, like speakers and other things with edges that did the job of digging into my rib cage every other second of running.) So four pieces of heavy luggage balanced on one sprinting, but valiantly tough, individual. I know, I know- it’s my own fault for not packing so light, but in my defence- try move your life across to another country in two suitcases. A lot harder than you think.

(First glimpse of FAR)

After a three hour ‘Illini Shuttle’ ride (mostly through corn fields- I certainly can see why Illinois is called The Prairie State now,) full of excitable chat and getting to know the fellow bus riders who were also year abroad students, we arrived at the UIUC campus. I couldn’t really fathom what was going on. So far my day had consisted of a ridiculously early flight, being bored to sleep by an awful film, having my physicality challenged and my ribcage bashed constantly, and a 3 hour drive through stretches of cornfields. It certainly wasn’t a normal day. The campus was massive- much larger than I thought. It was also teaming with students and it was just so much like the movies, yet it had so much individual character. The only way I can think to describe it is like National Lampoons meets the Social Network. The perfect blend of party and scholastic. Hopping on a free campus bus I was bombarded with the words ‘Nice tan, very very nice tan!’ in an overly American accent. I knew that the comment couldn’t be directed at me in any way shape or form- I resemble the colour of A4 paper. To my surprise, the noise was an American tanning advert being played on a PA system throughout the bus, a commonplace thing for UIUC transport apparently… that’s when I knew I was a long way from home. You couldn’t pay the Cambridge bus companies enough money to play fake tanning adverts throughout their vehicles! And that commercial shall be ingrained in my brain forever more- I heard it on average 3 times a day. So after a surreal hopper bus journey that made me only too aware of the pastiness of my complexion, I arrived at my halls of residence, FAR. This accommodation gets incredibly mixed reviews but I’m gonna be bold and go on the record by saying that I loved it there. Yes it was a little ‘far’ (forgive the shitty pun) from the main quad (it really wasn’t, people are just averse to walking it appears) and granted it didn’t have the best dining hall, but I met the best group of guys at FAR who went over and above to make sure I felt at home, and as a result, majority of my time was spent on the 9^th floor hanging out with these cool dudes and having a blast- mostly playing pranks on each other really. Every accommodation is what you make it, and I had a great room, amazing friends there and I can’t be forgetting Soul Food night every Thursday- basically hip hop music being played over southern style food. Amazing combination.

It certainly didn’t take long before I felt completely settled in and UIUC felt like my new home. If I’m honest this was largely to do with the people I met. Not only did I have my American lads on the 9^th floor, but also the group of British friends I made out there. It’s weird because people kept telling me it was silly to make friends with other Brits out there- but I couldn’t find that to be more untrue. I’m so happy I had my group of Brits out there with me- 2 more from Nottingham Uni, 2 from Leeds and 2 from York. Here I go getting all sentimental, but we were a great big random family with a vast array of personalities. You’ve got Geordie Jack, a secret genius, who loves to wear adidas zip ups, put his fingers in cats mouths when they yawned, kick buses and be a great source of entertainment when drunk. His accent alone provided us with many a laugh. Then there’s Brummie Rae who is old before her time. She loves nothing more than a good cup of tea, an intriguing book, a knitted cardigan and anything of the castle variety. She is a fellow sleep lover with a penchant for Etta James music. Next there’s Dani, a miniature Brummie with an infectious laugh who is a fountain of knowledge when it comes to movies, books and anything involving celebrity gossip. It’s like she got the low-down on the gossip before it even happened! Quite the talent! Then we have Midlands Mikey. I don’t know where to begin with Mikey. He is quite possibly the most elusive person I’ve ever met in my entire life and I can say with sheer confidence that I will never meet anyone more elusive than him ever again. He’d be on his phone constantly yet never reply to texts or phone calls, he’d show up out of nowhere and vanish in thin air. Although we knew little of his whereabouts, it was almost certain that he was doing something sport-related. We’ve then got Gareth the Londoner. An equally big sports fanatic and a staunch Brentford supporter. He quotes Friends/Anchorman/Stepbrothers on a daily basis, eats incredibly weird combinations of food and can’t let the word ‘London’ pass by without it being followed by a ‘BRRRRRRAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!’ We also had Rhea with us for a semester and she was really the mother of us all. She took care of us and always made sure we were never short-changed, even if this involved being incredibly stern and intimidating on the phone to ‘Insomnia Cookies.’ And finally there’s me. I’m the common senseless one who makes embarrassingly idiotic comments, jumps at the slightest thing and loves everything sporty as well. My lack of common sense knew no bounds in America but at least people got some joy out of it- even if it was laughing AT me not WITH me.

(My fellow Brits)

So that’s it basically. That is a whistle-stop tour of how I got the chance to go to University in America. Had I, at the age of 4, pursued my infant dreams of being a dancer, or by the age of 9, satisfied my Indiana Jones/dustpan sweeping obsession- I never would have got the chance to live in America for the year. Having absolutely no clue what I wanted to do for a career evidently benefitted me greatly. I know anyone who did a year abroad would agree with me- I just want to do it all again.