After a year of being shackled by American writing — having to remove my extra U’s, change S’s into Z’s (pronounced “zed,” not “zee” by the way!) or having editors gawk at my use of “flatmates,” — I’m finally allowed to write in English, the English way.
Thirty-five weeks ago, I was sitting in Heathrow Airport’s Wetherspoon pub, nervously sipping my last pint of quality beer for the foreseeable future. I was joined by three other Edinburgh students, whom I barely knew but would live with for the next year. An 11-hour flight and a surprisingly quick border control getaway later, we made our way to West Campus. Scheming about all the American fast food we were going to try, a bright sign displaying “$1 beers” caught our eye. By stroke of luck, we hit the jackpot, Cain and Abel’s packed dollar-beer Tuesdays. All I can recall now is how profusely, uncomfortably hot it was and the beer’s watery taste. Looking back eight months later, I’m glad to have finally found a beer I would drink a bucket of (shoutout Coors Banquet).
But there were more surprise culture comparisons to tackle along the way than I thought.
One of my favorite days was watching The Killers — the most British non-British band to exist — headline ACL. For some reason, “Mr. Brightside” is one of the archetypal British teenager anthems, and I felt as patriotic as a Brit could in Texas.
That day, I also remember walking out of ACL with my flatmates cooped up in a sea of thousands of people. Simultaneously, we had the same thought creep into our minds. I’ve never needed to fear guns before and I hope that normality is never programmed into my thinking. Something about it isn’t quite real — whether it’s because walking alone after dark isn’t an option, erratic passersby on fentanyl or three people dying in a shooting at a bar that I danced at on my first night here.
It feels heavy, it’s moving, and it’s crazy — except that tragedy isn’t that crazy here. Would I come back to the United States? Definitely. Would I move and raise a family here? I’m not sure. With Austin’s Southern charm, it’s one of the most welcoming places I’ve visited but also maybe the scariest. However, the market might already have decided for me — I highly doubt any American firms will be willing to pay $100,000 to hire my impressive skillset.
One of the more important things I’ve gained from travelling is seeing what different cultures normalise, which you forget yourself until you experience another.
Some leaving thoughts to Americans:
Firstly, please learn some geography. I’ve added years to my life having to explain that I’m from London, but I attend university in Edinburgh, which is in Scotland. It’s not England, but they are both in the U.K.
Secondly, for the love of God, please turn down the lights at parties and bars. I really don’t need to see some greasy teenagers brucking on each other on the dancefloor.
Thirdly, Brits and Australians are not the same, and we sound very different.
Fourth, UT is an incredible university, although you all already know it. I have friends across America on exchange years, but UT is the one everyone wants to visit. It’s got the campus culture, the proud sports spirit and the location in one of the coolest cities in America. Pretty safe bet. Also, classes here are much more interesting and fun. At first, I was cringing at how much people wanted to speak in class, but admittedly, it’s a relief from dead silence in tutorials.
Thinking about my time in Edinburgh, I probably wouldn’t have bothered befriending someone if they were only here for a year (especially with an American accent), but do! It’s invaluable to interact with people outside of your culture or at the very least, a great excuse to go visit.
All in all, I’m eager to be moving back to a city where I can walk anywhere I need to go, gawk at medieval architecture while sitting in a pub with a crisp, cold pint. I’m thankful to America for making me appreciate English cuisine — Sunday roast, sausage rolls, beans on toast, non-plastic cheese, good chocolate, pork pies and Yorkshire tea!
I’m excited to see my loved ones and get back to some British humour, but I don’t want that at the expense of my time here to be over. Whilst America can’t help making a name for itself internationally, maybe the Brits can take a pinch of the American enthusiasm. I hope one day you will experience the joy of a £3.85 Tesco meal deal.
See you all, I mean y’all, later.
Slimmon is a history junior from London, England.
