Princes Park vs. Princess Suite

In a recent email, my sister Kirsten asked me if I’ve been learning anything on my “study” abroad sojourn thus far. That’s an interesting question, considering I’ve been on “Christmas Break” since December 17^th and, more recently in the past 11 days, on “summer vacation” in the southern hemisphere. Okay so maybe I haven’t been plowing through Tolstoy like I’d planned, and perhaps I’ve neglected to think any thoughts in Spanish for quite some time now. In fact, I may or may not have been actively avoiding any and all conversations with academic roots for a while. Is that a crime? Sue me.

I have, however, learned that riding a bike in Australia without a helmet is illegal (love it, Dad?); that I am a ‘vego’; that, although toilets do not, contrary to popular belief, flush the opposite way down here, locks, keys, latches, and doors all apply themselves in the opposite direction than I’m accustomed; that Aussies will never, under any circumstance, say “you’re welcome,” but only “hey, no worries!”; that I must always, always remember to look RIGHT (not left!) before crossing the street or I will certainly lift my foot to what is sure to be a painful, fatal death by motor vehicle sooner rather than later; that Princes Park is a perfect place to run four miles, but the Princess Suite IS a nicer place to sleep. I guess it would be a legitimate claim to say that this whole study abroad “thing” isn’t just about studying, but that learning happens unavoidably every time you set foot on that tram to explore the unknown.

More importantly, I have learned in eleven days that, with the shocking power and presence of anonymity comes immense pressure and potential. To be given the opportunity to recreate yourself entirely, in a new country, a new continent, a thriving metropolis, amidst 11,000 international exchange students, 30 IES students, 45,000 University of Melbourne students-how does one decide who to be, who to become? I have learned that I am faced with this decision, this self-questioning, every day as I inevitably meet more and more new faces. I wonder which of these faces will become a constant presence in my four remaining months here, and, subsequently, I wonder which faces will dissolve in my memory, like the vapor from this heat wave sizzling out of the black pavement. What is that quote, the one I have framed in the Princess Suite at home? “You don’t need to find yourself, you need to create yourself.” Something along those lines. Isn’t that a nice idea, that we don’t need to rely on endless soul-searching to “find” the person we are “supposed” to be-but, rather, we truly have the power, the anonymity that comes with each new day, each new face, each step onto a Yarra Tram, to define ourselves on our own terms, to learn ourselves inside and out, to learn about the person we want to be. Well, until next time, I guess I’ll be creating myself and learning about myself to the best of my ability during O-Week at Janet Clarke, and I suggest that you all go out and create yourselves today. How about it?