Life Under 21

…has finally ended. I know they tell you not to wish your life away but 3 months in the US unable to go to bars with your friends, waving them off at the door saying ‘stay safe’, and you too would be wishing your 21^st birthday was sooner rather than later. Up until a week ago I could drive a car, buy cigarettes, and own a gun… But I couldn’t drink alcohol. Which, may I add is the only one of those three pass times I wanted to engage in!

I can now legally enter bars and clubs with my own, real ID and without using 16 year old ‘sneak in the back door’ techniques, like I can back home and it feels great! People ask the usual ‘so do you feel 21?’ and the truth is yes, although in the same respect I feel 18 all over again, which is equally as great.

When deciding whether or not to study abroad the fact I would be spending my 21^st birthday in a foreign country weighed heavily on my decision. Whether you want to admit it or not your 21^st is a big deal, it’s one of the few milestone birthdays we have in our lives and it’s nice to celebrate that with the people you love. I am thousands of miles away from the people I have loved and shared my previous birthdays with for years… But the friends I’ve come to cherish here certainly pulled through for me. In fact ‘pulled through’ would be an offensive understatement to the immense amount of effort they put into my day, I couldn't have asked for more

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Between the constant surprises, presents and force feeding of terrible shots I hardly had a chance to feel homesick. I woke up to a scavenger hunt to find my birthday card and this little guy to the right from my house mates… Who later turned into the poor little guy below! After two classes, during which I was bought a hot chocolate from a nice boy in class, I was whisked away for lunch at the top of the Devon tower, the tallest building in OKC.  I ate a beautiful chicken salad accompanied by a rich red wine while looking out at a view of the vast expanse that is Oklahoma, it was wonderful.  I returned to reality for my last class after which I returned home to a perfectly decorated apartment fully equipped with balloons, banners and crazy picture sticks which made for fantastic photos! At 6pm I was whisked away again for dinner with three of my best friends, or so I thought. When we arrived at the restaurant 18 of my friends, most of which said they couldn’t make it, were waiting at a table where I was presented with a large bottle of Dior J’adore and the dreaded shot book…  

To the left is the first entry to the shot book. The book had only 4 rules: get someone to buy you a shot, take a photo with the person and the shot, get them to write down where and when they bought it, and repeat the process 21 times. Really there was only need for 1 rule – get drunk.  Needless to say I spent the following day recovering with plenty of food and water, but it was so worth it!

The Truth About Sorority Girls: Part 1

Outside Gamma Phi Beta for the first time

For those of you who have seen any kind of American teen ‘chick flick’, or the overrated British reality show ‘Sorority Girls’, a sorority is an exclusive club for pretty, blonde, snobby American girls. This club has brutal initiations where the poor freshman college girls are put through their paces to prove they are worthy of such a privilege. Once their worth is proven they are taught to be real ladies who wear pretty dresses, never curse and use their silver wear in the utmost lady like fashion. Sorority girls are the perfect girls.

Well for those of you who have been fed this ideal, here is the truth…

During my second week at OU I was lucky enough to be introduced to the president of Gamma Phi Beta (G-Phi) Sorority at a Pilates class. This one encounter earned me an invitation to the sorority house in which she lives with around 60 other girls. My roommates and I had a guided tour of the beautiful white house with its many bedrooms, communal bathrooms, leopard print carpeted study room, huge dining room and equally huge living room. Once we’d finished being awed we were treated to a free dinner and our first introduction to what it means to be in a sorority. 

This is what I learned…

Decorations in the girls rooms

During a girls first year of university (freshman year) she decides whether or not to ‘rush’ the week before her classes start. ‘Rush’ is the official name given to the process of applying to be part of a sorority. During rush week all the girls who chose to apply visit every sorority house on the first day, each of which has a Greek name e.g. Gamma Phi Beta, Kappa Kappa Gamma. Now what I learnt form TV (which let’s face it should never be taken seriously anyway) was that the sorority chose which girls they wanted based on how they spoke, dressed and acted at a one-on-one interview with the president of the sorority. This initially made me think who in their right mind would want to join something that would judge you so harshly? I found out they want to join them because there is no such thing as these ridiculous interviews!

Photos of sorority alumni around the house

Instead, on each day of rush week the girls narrow down their choices of which sorority they like best e.g. on the second day the girls visit their six favourites, on the third their five favourite’s etc. etc. each day spending more and more time at the houses so they are able to get to know the girls in their favourite sororities a little better before they chose the one for them.

Unfortunately for some girls there is a horrible catch: the sororities themselves can ‘cut’ girls they don’t get along with even if those girls have chosen that sorority as their favourite. On the upside they will be placed with a different sorority. Overall the application process is a mutual decision dependant on whether the girls joining and the girls already joined like each other. After all they do have to spend the rest of their lives calling each other sisters.

There are no brutal initiation periods; the initiation dinner is about as crazy as it gets for these lovely ladies. They take a pledge that they will be part of the sorority and will keep all traditions such as sorority songs and mottos secret. Each sorority has their own signs; G-Phi’s is the crescent moon which you can see me and my honorary sorority sisters making with our arms to the left. The girls say things to each other like ‘I love you to the moon and back’ showing the strength of their bond.

Once you are in a sorority the girls are your sisters and you can never join another one. If you choose to quit or are thrown out for inappropriate behaviour, you are never allowed back in. So it is an exclusive club, but a nice one.

A friend in the sorority Kappa Alpha Theta retold her ‘rush’ experience as overwhelmingly loud, happy and friendly. She explained how each sorority has all their girls line up inside the front doors and sing to you before they open their doors, which is kind of intimidating as there are literally hundreds of girls wearing the same t-shirts, looking identical, ready to greet you. One thing I will always remember was her response to my comment “that’ll be you next year singing and scaring incoming girls” which was “yes, I’ll be scaring the little freshman with my immense amount of love for them all” and this was one of the most genuine statements I have ever heard.

The sororities trophies

The truth is, a sorority is all about friendship, love and sisterhood. It is nothing to be afraid of. It’s not for everyone because it takes a lot of time and effort. Yes the inside dynamics can be horrible, but only as horrible as 60 girls sharing a house trying to get along all the time can be, if you have ever been to an all-girls school you can appreciate that yes it is hard and sometimes it sucks, but at the same time it forces you to bond with girls a lot more closely than you would otherwise.

At a football game with the President and OU mascot!

I am so thankful to have met the girls at Gamma Phi Beta and have them accept me as their honorary international sister, teaching me about their bond, sharing their t-shirts and annual gatherings with me. It has brought me to meet so many girls, some of which taught me the rules of American football, others participated in making my 21^st more memorable than I can ever imagine and others are just plain good friends.

My experience has been fun and I’ve met girls who don’t care what you look like or how you dress, they just want to be your friend. Hey, maybe I just got lucky with this sorority and all the rumours are true, but I guess we’ll never know… 

The Pumpkin Patch Kids

Today my sorority sisters (more on this later) took me on a spontaneous trip to a 'pumpkin patch' not far from my apartment. These patches are dotted around the country for the amusement of children, families and 21 year olds alike.

The one I was lucky enough to visit today, with my first pumpkin-spiced latte in hand, was one of the sweetest places I have ever been! There were scarecrows, mazes, hay bails, tracto
rs, professional photographers, a petting zoo and most importantly pumpkins of every kind, even the kind dressed in hats and sunglasses!

My friends bought a few small striped ones, white ones and orange ones to decorate their house on the all American halloween soon approaching. I wish Halloween was celebrated with such finesse in the UK so children could experience things like pumpkin patches, pumpkin carving and pumpkin flavoured everything like they can here.

I mean I'm no halloween expert, but, having experienced several in the UK, New Zealand and granted only one in America, I feel I have at least half the knowledge required to say America puts the fun that the UK and New Zealand have sucked out of Halloween back in! Although I am situated right smack bang in the middle of the bible belt of the US I have yet to see a door step covered in salt telling children (only seeking light hearted fun) to back away from their house and not even dare to ask for sweets. Its safe to say everyone gets into the Halloween spirit here, and I love it.

Homesickness speaks every language

Its not since my emotional breakdown during my first Wallmart trip due to their lack of gluten free bread that I have felt homesick... But now on the fast approach of my 21st birthday I am beginning to feel the pinch.

Homesickness is the strangest emotion I have felt yet. Its missing something so much that it hurts but not enough that you want it back. I miss my friends, my family and good British food! Those are the things I want in close proximity for the rest of my life, especially the food, oh and cider. We can't forget cider. But do I want to jump on a plane tonight just to see Swansea bay or Hatfield Galleria in the morning? No chance! But at the same time, sometimes I do.

It's the little things I now know I took for granted that I miss most and for those of you lucky enough to still take advantage of them here is a list:

1. PG TIPS - Good tea is scarce, drink it every day and enjoy it for me.
2. ASDA - Supermarkets that are big enough to hold all the food you need and yet small enough to navigate without bumping into a scene from facebooks famous Wallmart photos are a blessing. 
3. TAP WATER - Tap water here may be safe to drink but it tastes like pool water.
4. PUBLIC TRANSPORT - From this day forward I solemnly swear never to complain about the underground, Arriva trains Wales or Stagecoach busses ever again. They have always been there for me, unlike the non-existent Oklahoma transportation system. I bought a bike, need I say more?
5. DRINKING AGE OF 18 - Thank you parliment. 
6. POUND COINS - These 1 dollar bills are a pain, especially when they go through the washing machine, or rather don't go through quite so well.

This list could contain a few more menial things that i've thought about more in the last eight weeks than I ever have in my life but that would give you the impression that I want to go home and i'm saving that for next year!

Although I do wish I could be celebrating my 21st with my family and friends back home I am so grateful for the international family I have here who have already made more than an effort to help me plan and make my big day even bigger, so despite having to attend a full day of lectures I have a feeling it'll be a good one! I've learnt that it's not about what language you speak, religion you practice or culture you're used to, some things in life are universal. One of those things is comfort; everybody needs it and here I am lucky to be surrounded by everybody who gives it. 

P.S I have a funny feeling that the first post I write upon my arrival in heathrow will be a similar list containing everything I miss about the home I've made here...

Tailgate like a Champion

As promised in the last post, the story of the tailgate...

The best way to explain this tradition is for me to ask you to imagine a beautiful summer's day; clear blue sky, humid heat with a faint warm breeze. You're standing in the middle of the road, cordoned off by police, to your left is a huge football stadium creating a comfortable shade and to your right you're surrounded by masses of OU fans all merging into one great imagine in their red t-shirts. You are part of that image. The road is filled with with people throwing footballs, playing bags, drinking and being merry.

Now, I am a huge advocate of closing down the streets to have an organised party with the whole university, but tailgating takes this to a whole new level. I'm not sure whether its the fact that everyone involved gets behind the football team or that both the home and away fans can celebrate together without either one throwing a punch that makes it so great. Or maybe its just the excessive amounts of beer and BBQ food...

Mandatory beer-bong

As tailgating begins around 3/4 hours before a 6 o'clock game several things are necessary; playing games, eating food and drinking beer. Each group of students with a tent sets up their own beer pong tables, brings their own beer bong (as seen to the left) and football. Some Americans take this very seriously and even bring their sofa and flat screen TV to their tents to watch the game, I mean why buy a ticket when you can bring your whole living room to the stadium? Air conditioning companies bring their air con tents so you can cool down between beers and those all important portaloos are set up in a nice neat line for your convenience. Game day doesn't get much better than this!

'How do you hold a football?'

"BOOMER SOONER"

As one enthused American boy shouts “BOOMER”, the surrounding students bellow back “SOONER”, this tradition repeated three times in succession is a University of Oklahoma American football ritual I have become more than familiar with. This chant is compulsory at, but not limited to, every OU football game.

For the first few weeks of the semester as I found myself diving head first into school spirit, going to football games, purchasing ‘Oklahoma’ t-shirts and proudly wearing them around campus, I took for granted OU’s overwhelming sense of school pride. I always assumed that every state was the same however I’ve been taught by several Americans that is not the case. Take the University of Texas for example, they are in the same big 12 (American college football league) as us however one of the only games they get overly defensive about is the one against us. Kansas State University I have been told is another example of an ‘it’s just football’ attitude where their home games are filled with more crimson and cream OU fans than their own fans.

After several hours of participating in my first American 'tailgate' (another story for another time) in the sweltering humidity, standing in a crowded football stadium watching a game I didn't understand for four hours was not exactly my idea of fun. By the time the second game rolled around my moral was less than high but I decided to give it another shot... And I think it’s safe to say that after one painful September afternoon of standing in the 35 degree heat learning American Football rules from the president of my sorority, I am now a true sooner fan with the colours to prove it. GO SOONERS!

Crazy College Trivia – the OU college football stadium holds 82,112 screaming fans dressed in crimson and cream every game. The first ever game was on 20^th October 1923, 89 years later on 27^th October 2012 they saw their largest crowd of 86, 031 people. 

After all... There's only one OKLAHOMA!

Are you alright Cowboy? Let's Rodeo!

Growing up in the UK a rodeo was as far from my reality as Christmas in the sun, yet six weeks in Oklahoma and I’ve already experienced two. It is of particular importance to this post that I mention nothing in this blog has been twisted, or exaggerated, but merely retold as it happened. And on that note I will tell you of my experience…

I’m not sure what was more surreal to me, the invitation to a rodeo in a small Indian village, or the invitation coming from an excited European who has clearly spent too much time in the US. Nevertheless one Norwegian, two Britons, one New Zealander, one Swede, one Spaniard and of course, one American, piled into the car for the half hour journey to the annual Chickasha Rodeo!

It wasn’t until we arrived at the dirt-track ‘parking lot’, took a wrong turn into a Mexican wedding anniversary and were swiftly ushered out and into the correct building for which we were more aptly dressed, that I realised I had no clue what a Rodeo was. Of course I’d heard of the phenomena as something you see in old cowboy westerns but I honestly could not have told you what they entailed... 

So for all of you out there who were as confused as I was here are a few definitions:

Rodeo; cattle herding turned into a very competitive sport where different ranches compete with each other in a series of different events involving lassos 

Cowboy Surfing; an event at a Rodeo where a cowboy lays on a mat tied to a horse and holds on for dear life while he/she is dragged around an obstacle course in the arena 

In true British fashion the first thing that crossed my mind when these men were racing around on what seemed like wild horses chasing cows with nothing but cowboy hats to protect their heads, was ‘Where is the health and safety?!’ There were men flying off their horses left right and centre and no standby paramedics rushing to their sides with oxygen, or even a Band-Aid, hair dressers can’t wear heels at home in case they fall the 4 inches to their deaths. Their only consolation was the comforting "You alright Cowboy?" booming across the microphone...

If that wasn't enough to make me nervous at half time a hoard of children filled the arena to try their luck with the calves. I couldn't watch as they raced around in excitement trying to be the first to grab the sticker off the calf’ ear and win a prize. No calf was too big for these fearless children; there were tails, feet, and ears being pulled from every which way, but it’s all in good fun. 

As well as the main show homemade burgers were provided and homemade jam was for sale from the local retired cowboys who also organised a wholesome raffle with a prize of two engraved handguns. 

I can't say this was my favorite experience to date but it was the most American! All in all it wasn't as exciting all the bull riding competition I attended, fortunately not as a participant, but that story is for another day.

A man on a plane

Embarking on the second stage of my trip half way across the globe I found myself on a tiny internal flight from Dallas, TX to Oklahoma City. After a short relapse of ‘What on earth am I doing moving to America’ at the departure gate, I eventually calmed down sitting next to a very friendly Oklahoman.

This gracious man from Norman Oklahoma took it upon himself to take a scared little girl from Swansea under his wing as a granddaughter figure. On that short flight I learnt all about his humble beginnings and great pride in his small town, I told him all about my ambitious plans for the year ahead, to travel, meet new people and embrace all that America had to offer me. This man became my friend.

Since that day he has kept in contact with me, offering help along my journey, introducing me to his church and those around him of my own age. I have made friends I never would have crossed paths with otherwise, all thanks to the man on the plane.

It is the many little experiences just like these that I have had with the people of Oklahoma that make me proud to say I am part of OU. This is not the America you see on TV where everyone is hustling around a busy city fuelled by crime. This is not the America you hear about on the radio where the biggest headline is Obama’s new dog.

No, this is the real America. 

The dream to document

'Living the dream' is what everyone wants to do, right? And when you do it you want everyone to know about it, right? Well, when I boarded a plane at Heathrow headed for Oklahoma on the 9th of August 2013 knowing I would be gone for a whole year, the one thing I wanted to do was remember..

I wanted to remember the group of 'Cowboy Christians', fully equipped with matching cowboy hats and boots, who comforted me when I suddenly realised exactly how long a year was.  

I wanted to remember the American man I had the great pleasure of sitting next to whose words of wisdom about world peace became more and more humble with every bottle of red wine he devoured.

I wanted to remember the overwhelming excitement landing in Dallas not knowing what to expect. I will unfortunately never forget the chaos that welcomed me at that airport with people climbing under barriers to get to their plane on time accompanied by elderly women complaining about the rush that my generation is always in.

Most of all I wanted to remember to document each of these fleeting moments in my diary, I wanted to document this dream I was now living in... However that is the one thing I did not remember and for that reason I have began this blog.