You might have seen me around campus. I’m the bewildered pedestrian found visibly regretting the maverick decision to jaywalk across Columbia’s roads.
No matter how many times I take a confident step from the curb, my brazen decision is always met with an unwelcome reminder that America doesn’t rank the rights of pedestrians very highly on it’s list of concerns. So much so, that allowing them the simple right to cross the road wherever they want is against the law.
America’s motoring lifestyle has been one of the greatest sources of culture shock during my year abroad. I am 21 years old, and I can’t drive. I have never had a driving lesson, nor have I ever wanted one. More to the point- I have never needed to drive. England is home to an extensive public transport system that, despite inflated ticket prices over the years, has allowed me to go about my daily life without having to spend thousands of pounds on a car with all the trimmings.
When I applied to study abroad at USC, I read some feedback from a previous exchange student that explained how difficult it is to get around Columbia without a car. Having already fallen much too far in love with the prospect of becoming an honorary Gamecock, I applied anyway and decided that, if I got accepted, I’d worry about the small print later.
I’ve been in Columbia for seven months, and I’m still worrying. I open the fridge to see nothing on my shelf and worry about how I’m going to hitchhike to Walmart to get some food. I stand on the curbside in the rain and worry that the taxi I ordered to take me to Publix is never going to turn up. So I walk up the hill to Russell House to become an honorary meal-planner, and worry that my savvy decision not to invest in driving lessons is becoming nullified by spending my grocery money at Marble Slab.
Overcoming logistical difficulties hasn’t been the only shock. The extreme degree to which Americans rely on their cars has provided me with an endless source of bafflement. I’ve been offered rides to CVS from the Byrnes building, and from the volleyball courts at Blatt to go ‘back to campus’. I’ve also realized that for an American teenager, not only is getting a car a logistical necessity, but it is perceived as a right of passage to adulthood. In my first week at USC I was stunned to learn that it’s quite normal for American students to drive four-by-fours, pick-up trucks and family saloons around campus. In England, new drivers can be seen squeezing into Clios, Ford KAs and smart cars in a bid to reduce their insurance quote.
I knew something was wrong since the very first day that I spent in Columbia. In a bid to explore my new home, I decided to walk from campus to Five Points to have a look around. I started to get a sense that I was Columbia’s lonesome pedestrian when a taxi driver spontaneously pulled over and asked if I needed a ride. Other trepidatious highlights experienced when commuting by foot include setting off on a trip to Todd and Moore to find the pavement stop dead. It suddenly just ceased to exist. So my innocent attempt to buy new trainers turned into a life-threatening expedition along the side of the road and across train tracks like I was some sort of Hobbit on the road to Mordor.
Before I departed for the US, a member of staff from the study abroad office at home told me that the degree to which I would become acclimated to my host culture will, after a year, is phenomenal. He told me that when he was my age he studied abroad in France, and recounted the night that he realized he was fully acclimatized to France because he started dreaming in French.
It just so happens that the night that I became fully acclimated, as an honorary Gamecock was the night that I dreamed, for the first time ever, that I could drive.
I will be returning home in June having overcome many obstacles. Some have tested the heart, some have tested the mind, but battling against daily life as a pedestrian in Columbia will forever remain to be the ultimate test of my soul.