Well it’s been a few weeks since my arrival in Minneapolis and amongst the uni work, moving, cooking and marching band I’ve been assailed by both the minute and radical differences between American culture and that of home.
Everything seems different.
Back to front
Here, in the northern hemisphere, everything has been turned about or is upside down, back-to-front. Take light switches for example - where in Australia we flick a switch down to turn lights or power on, for Americans down is off, and up is on. Some taps also seem to turn the opposite way to what I’m used too, though I haven’t been caught out with a wet front just yet.
Doors here are a complete enigma to me. Every time I approach one I am expecting it to require the opposite motion. I think it’s a push and it’s a pull and vice versa. Though I have been prone to this at home, I’ve had my fair share of walking heavily into closed doors this past few weeks.
Keep right, obviously a carry over from the native driving system, also extends to pavements (footpaths), stairwells and corridors. This has been very hard to get used to. I’ve inadvertently walked in the way of many pedestrians and cyclists and had quite a few run-ins going up and down stairs at uni.
On the road
Keeping right is a problem getting about town. Crossing the road, a seemingly simple activity, becomes perilous when traffic is coming from the opposite direction. This has resulted in a crick in my neck as a result of nervously and hastily turning to the right to look for oncoming traffic. I keep repeating this motion in moments of self doubt!
Pedestrian impatience at traffic lights is aggravated by an electronic voice saying “Wait” every time you press the button to cross. No more the irritated constant mashing of he crossing button!
However a lot crossings don’t have this feature, and have no button at all. Unfortunately though, if you assume there’s no button you’ll be left waiting for a long time because the “green man” - white in America - will never illuminate. I’ve been left waiting at lights a for several light cycles time, reticent to cross without permission, as there are signs everywhere on campus advertising the $178 fine for jaywalking. One particular crossing that I use often has had the traffic pole removed on one side removed though, meaning you have no option but to jaywalk when coming from that side.
On the plus side, Minneapolis is an incredibly bike-friendly city, with bike lanes snaking through the city in all directions, riverside pathways and old train tracks turned into green bike corridors. Once I feel confident in negotiating the road rules I’ll be on my bike! (As a side note hardly anybody wears helmets here as it is not a legal requirement. Apparently this is because everyone should have the ‘freedom’ to choose if they get a traumatic brain injury or not).
(NOTE: Since initially writing I have been on my bike, but not game to take any left hand turns at multiple lane roads yet, as you can imagine, slightly intimidating being between cars!)
Difference of scale
Everything here is BIG. Go to a fast food outlet and what we call a ‘small’ or ‘regular’ size does not physically exist. Their ‘small’ is our medium, or even large. American large means a soda (soft-drink) cup the size of a bucket and fries to match.
The university campus itself has the same size footprint as the entire Melbourne CBD (see like). With 45,000 students it’s a slightly forbidding place. Many of the buildings are
And fast food is EVERYWHERE. And it seems that there is nothing but. No nice sandwich places, no sushi. It’s all pizza, burgers, fried chicken, variants of Subway and mexican. Whilst some of the mexican options appear healthier the servings are still king-size.
Supermarkets reflect the ‘bigger is better’ mantra. Small fresh produce areas skirt the enormous inner aisles filled with more junk food, soft drink and rubbish than I have ever seen. Shelf upon shelf of technicolour ‘soda pop’ taking up multiple aisles and only 3 brands of mineral water to show for it, almost invisible languishing on a top shelf.
Luckily I’ve found the local co-op where just about everything is organic and great quality. Because normal food is so cheap here, organic works out to be the same price as regular supermarket food in Oz.
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