What can I say about studying abroad that has not already been said millions of times already? Probably not much, but I intend to try my best.

You have all, no doubt, heard the clichés about studying abroad: that it is rewarding , or that it is an adventure, or a life-changing experience. Now, I have only been here for two weeks, so I cannot comment much on how drastically my life has changed since I arrived in Colchester, England. Perhaps when I come home this winter, I will do so as a more cultured, more worldly man, smoking a pipe and reading a leather-bound copy of “War and Peace.” Somehow, I doubt it.

It is hard to reflect on my time here so far, not only because it has been brief, but also because I have had very little free time for introspection. Settling in to a new university in a new country on a new continent has been a whirlwind, to say the least.

These past few days have been a flood of new people, new slang, and new courses [and the flood metaphor is appropriate, given how much it has rained these past two weeks]. The Campus here easily dwarfs Le Moyne’s, which has proven to be the most difficult adjustment to make. The halls here are so labyrinthine, that I spent fifteen minutes the other day wandering through them, utterly lost and half-expecting to run into David Bowie and a bunch of ugly muppets.

One of the best things about the University of Essex, I think, is its large number of international students from all corners of the globe. For me, this was initially very intimidating because I didn’t know what to expect. This is my first time ever outside of the United States, unless you count a day trip to Canada [I don’t].

I spent my seven hour transatlantic flight obsessing over all of the different cultures, and how strange and different studying at Essex was going to be. In hindsight, it was a silly thing to worry about, but the whole “experiencing different cultures” thing is one of the most hyped-up parts of studying abroad, so I do not think I was being too ridiculous. So imagine my surprise, and embarrassment, when I learned that all of my new friends really are not that much different, despite being from France, England, Japan, Italy, and so on. At the end of the day, despite our numerous cultural differences, we are all still people.    [#deep]

Still, I would be remiss if I did not indulge in some of the amusing British idiosyncrasies I have noticed, as well as my own American quirks that have baffled so many of my new friends.  All of my flatmates think it is so funny whenever I use American colloquialisms and slang, like “dude” or “bro.” Conversely, I love it whenever one of my new British friends says “cheers” in lieu of “thank you.” I am not sure why I take so much delight in it, but I do.

I had to explain to some new friends that “gotcha” was short for “got you,” and that “got you” meant that I understood. It’s the little differences that are the most fun. However, not all of the vernacular differences have been so amusing. Word to the wise: if you ever visit England, do not compliment someone’s pants. The word pants means underwear over here, and can lead to some very uncomfortable misunderstandings. Yes, I am speaking from experience.

Also, whenever I tell people that I am from New York, they always assume that I am from the city. I usually just roll with it. It’s fun.

So was I able to say something new about studying abroad? I do not know, but I still have the rest of the semester here to keep trying.