When I landed in Los Angeles, people asked me why I came to the United States. I would tell them I came here to study, after which they would grow excited and proceed to ask me where I was studying. When I replied with UW-Madison, every person’s reaction was the same: They all looked at me, sometimes in fear, sometimes jokingly, and asked, “You know it is cold there, don’t you?” Of course I did. I had put some serious research into my study abroad program, and though my arrival in the great U.S. of A. in the middle of winter could be construed as crazy, I had chosen to test my limits in the freezing cold Wisconsin.
The balmy West Coast winter was already starting to test this Australian’s skewed sense of cold weather. I was wearing a jumper (a sweater) in the 70-plus degree weather and was not phased when the other west coasters did the same. I began to worry, however, when I noticed a trend as I told them where in the States I would be attending university. Each and every one of them responded in relative horror when I said I was off to Wisconsin.
“Do you have a jacket?” they asked. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” I always responded with a confident “yes” and an eye roll, but in reality, I was in no way mentally prepared for the cold of Wisconsin (and apparently this was a mild winter).
Upon arriving in Wisconsin, I stepped off the bus into the midst of a night-time snowstorm, the tips of my fingers instantly freezing as I clutched the handle of my giant red suitcase. The snow clogged the wheels, and I had to drag the bloody thing a mile in what seemed like a blizzard. Turns out it was the first real snowfall of the season, and a light one at that.
With my puffy jacket and a brave soul, I eventually got accustomed to the winter. My winter amazement did not wear off, though, as I still stared in wonder at snow, resisting the urge to frolic on my way to each and every class.
Beyond the snow, Wisconsinites have introduced me to some wonderful things. There have been fried cheese curds, snow angels on the frozen lake and plenty of beer. One of my more memorable moments was sledding on lunch trays. Frightening yet exhilarating, I sped down the hill outside Liz Waters, screaming at the top of my lungs and landing in a puff of snow, limbs tangled at the bottom. Best. Feeling. Ever.
Wisconsin has turned me into a person who squeals at squirrels, enjoys slack lining (like tightrope walking, only cooler) and is addicted to Ian’s Pizza. I am also now a person constantly teased about my accent (it is tomahhto, not tomaayto).
But I use my Aussie roots to my advantage. I have made a habit of testing the gullibility of pretty much everyone I encounter, letting them in on the completely true fact that Australians ride kangaroos everywhere and that drop bears are a legitimate risk when going walkabout. Wisconsinites are a gullible bunch. Seeing their faces when they start to actually believe me is priceless.
In short, I am having a great time here in the land of cheese, and with this warm weather starting to come around, I am looking forward to many more Midwestern adventures.
Be sure to pick up the Cardinal after spring break for more columns from Jessica on her adventures in the United States. Have specific questions for her? E-mail her at jessicakregan@gmail.com.
