Memoir from Penn State (part 1)

Written Tuesday January 16, 2007

Contrary to popular belief I have not been abducted, robbed or murdered, thrown in jail, deported or maimed. I'm alive and well, and almost too well to pen this email; hence the delay. But alas, I am a kind sole who derives pleasure from gloating about my international experiences, so shall do so.

The USA is super-sized, and it's an image that applies equally to her houses, cars, freeways, university campuses, cities, and indeed people. For the most part, this super-size is endearing, though occasionally exhausting.

I must say that my very first impression of the U.S was not an altogether welcoming one. LA airport is clinical and the customs officials are anything but genial. As I moved to the front of the queue, the portraits of Bush, Cheney and Rice loomed large and my palms went just a tad clammy; were the hundreds of forms I completed the right ones? Will those overdue library books render me a sufficient threat to national security? Then without so much as a blink, the official with my future in his amply proportioned hands stamped the necessary forms and I was on my way.

LA is not as the movies suggest. The city is sprawling, urban and abrupt. Yet, as in every other place in the U.S that I've visited, the well-heeled or heel-less locals (there appears to be nothing in between) are only too happy to go out of their way to help with directions or show you the sites. Whether this is an example of national/city/university pride or an innate friendliness I'm not sure, and it really doesn't matter.

In LA I stayed in the Venice Beach Cotel – a youth hostel about 30 mins drive from the airport, and the home base of my cousin Josh. The hostel was right on the beach, and the cast of characters on the boardwalk outside would rival any sitcom. There were tourists, homeless, rollerblading shaman, tarot readers, joke tellers, druggies, children, people singing without inhibition, and just about everyone else you can think of – all in the one place, all harmless, and all seemingly oblivious to whatever strange acts were going on around them. In many ways they accurately reflect my experience of the U.S so far.

Highlights of LA included the Universal Studios, including the 'back lots'; a façade of a city with from different times and places that is redecorated for most Hollywood movies that would have, in the past, been shot on location! Although the glitz lasted little more than 3 or so streets, Hollywood itself was a sight to behold. I did the touristy thing and took a double decker tour ride to the main sights, including Paris Hilton's favourite take away restaurant and the shop that Brad Pitt used to spruik outside of before he made it big. We also went to the Getty Museum, one of the world best museums - the collections and architecture were stunning. Just as interesting was the bus ride between the two places, through the Hollywood Hills, where Josh and I were literally (without exaggeration) the only Caucasian people on the bus - the vast majority were African American women, many of whom work domestically in the rich neighbourhood we were passing through.

On 28 December, Josh and I headed to Mexico for 5 days; to a coastal town called Ensenada, a couple of hours over the U.S border. It was amazing to see the difference in housing and living conditions is the space of about a 5 minute bus trip into Mexico. We travelled along the stunning coastline into Ensenada, a touristy town, and relished our chance to escape student budgets and live like kings for a few days. There seemed to be an unusually large number of pharmacies selling viagra (literally every few shops), to cater to the retirees who come into port for the day bound for San Francisco. Whale-watching, endless tacos and spectacular scenery were seen and eaten; good times!

Next stop was San Diego - one of my favourites so far. It seems that if you were to sit down and plan a city; with just the right people, amenities, sights, location and weather, you'd come up with something like San Diego. We stayed at a great hostel, and I'm learning to go with Hostelling International hostels wherever possible; they seem by far the best. One of the most sights was the San Diego Photographic Museum, which was currently exhibiting a collection focussed on cross-border immigration, specifically the U.S - Mexico border that I had crossed the day before. It gave a visual history of the daily attempts of many South Americans to cross illegally, many of whom risk life and limb, travelling from Venezuela into Mexico and north on a freight train before climbing the fence and crossing no man's land to a better life. I wondered whether Americans viewing the exhibition were ashamed of the inequality at their doorstep, and began to see paralells with our treatment of asylum seekers. To use people's names and show day to day aspects of their lives helped to humanise their plight, a tactic which should be used in a similar in Australia.

It was in San Diego that Josh and I parted ways - he back to LA and I on to San Fransisco, a short flight to the north. San Fransisco is an amazing city! And if I thought the people in LA were nuts, San Franciscans were on another planet. Being my far too organised self, I booked accomodation on the net from Melbourne, so it was always a bit of a gamble, but the hostel was more than I bargained for. Impression #1 - greeted by the sweet smell of marijuana and a hostel manager akin to the one in Silence of the Hams, complete with twitch and manic laugh that surfaced at inopportune moments. Impression #2 - Matt: "where's the nearest place to get food?", Manager: "I wouldn't go out of here after dark if I were you - a guy was mugged at the end of this street the other day". Impression #3 - Irrate guest interrupts conversation with talk of bed bugs in his room. Impression #4 - friend of the owner quietly advises me that he would stay he if he were me. By this point I was beginning to agree with him, but I/It was cold, dark and tired, and I didn't fancy searching for anywhere else and knew I wouldn't get my deposit back. So there I stayed for the evening. At this point said Manager comments that "it's so nice when we get gentlemen like yourself stay here. Our customers are usually crazies in one way or another". The ensuing conversation proved one of the most entertaining I've had since arriving, consisting mainly of his making wild statements about San Francisco's "90% divorce rate", and conspiracy theories about local police. He was up for a laugh, and the whole thing was quite surreal. Needless to say I was out of there the next morning, and the Hostelling International hostel I found was palacial by comparison.

The city itself was stunning - the hills were as steep as in the movies, the cable car was a fun ride, and crookedest street in the world was as its title suggests, the museums were stunning, and Alcatraz (former prison island and fort) was a sight to behold.

In many ways I wish I'd had more time in both San Diego and San Francisco – both cities had a charm to them that took a little more time to capture. They are both cities and I could very easily live in for a while I think.

Next stop was the quintessential U.S experience – New York City; a city whose size I found difficult to grasp in the two days I was, which makes it next to impossible to do it justice in an email. The flight to New York was interesting in itself – stormy skies made for a turbulent ride, with the captain instructing even crew to take their seats several times. We ended up avoiding the bulk of it by flight very low, below the clouds, over central America. The lights of Chicago looked beautiful – a definite visit after semester finishes.

I loved New York – for all its grittiness, rushing, lights and excitement. It was quite surreal to see that 42nd Street was so named just because it was between 41st and 43rd; and that Broadway simply referred to the width of the street. I already knew this of course but attaching reality to such concepts wipes away just a little of the glamour.

I walked through Central Park, bought a very cheap jumper from a gorgeous half naked male model (go figure) at the GAP store on 5th Avenue, and attempted to look genuinely interested in a $5000 leather jacket which a guy next to me actually bought.

I rode the subway from underground station to underground station and got pleasantly lost in its maze of platforms. I loved how industrial the whole thing was – like a network of sewer tunnels that had been flushed out and now had trains running through them. Fast, frequent trains mean that luxuries aren't missed. Hear that Bracksy??!!

I took the ferry to Staten Island and admired the Statue of Liberty with (somewhat ironically) a new friend I had made who immigrated from Iran. He told me how he fled to was living in Turkey and went to the U.S embassy to apply for a visa, only to be told that he could only apply at the embassy in his home country. After courteously reminding the officials that the U.S and Iran were sworn enemies and diplomatic institutions had been closed in Iran for years, he applied from Germany and had no problems at all.

I stood in Times Square and forgot that it was night time.

I loved New York.

The next part of my journey was captured aptly by a traveler many years ago – "You leave the Pennsylvania Station 'bout a quarter to four, read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore…". Had I arrived in Chattanooga I would have been on the world train, for I was going to the metropolis of Lewistown. It was such a metropolis that the station we choo-chooed into was staffed solely by historical society volunteers. As I lumbered out of the station with my life on my back, a kind hearted local pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted a lift. It was small town American hospitality at its best. She said that since the factory she worked in had closed down, she passed the time by watching the train come into the station at the same time each day. As I stood at the greyhound bus station (actually it was the intersection of two roads, with nothing to indicate it as such), I wondered if I would have to walk the 30 miles to Penn State. Thankfully, it showed up no less than 1 and ½ hours late, and I was on my way.

Penn State is everything the movies show of a big U.S university campus to be – what I am writing is in no way embellished. There are 40,000 students on campus, and world class facilities everywhere. The on-campus 'Beaver Stadium' is bigger than the MCG, with capacity crowds of 104,000 people at every footy game. There are numerous shuttle services, taxis, Penn State ambulances, dozens and dozens of restaurants, four enormous gyms (membership is $40 for the semester!) complete with indoor and outdoor pools, hotels, plush student lounges almost everywhere you look, a number of theatres…everything!

Whether it's the facilities or the ecstasy hidden in dining hall meals I'm not sure, but something has made these people love their school! There are literally dozens of shops selling nothing but Penn State branded paraphernalia – anything you could possibly imagine. And you don't hear a bad word spoken about the uni when chatting to students – they sings its praises! There are university campaigns for everything imaginable – recycling, encouraging residents to keep their fridges full to save energy, not to drink too much, not to litter, to keep the noise down, to smile more…you name it. We were even told to expect people to randomly shout "We are…" from across the street and that we are expected to respond "Penn State". Apparently this can happen anywhere throughout Pennsylvania. Slightly cult-ish but charming.

I'm living on campus in "Thompson Hall", part of the "West Halls" complex. It's a grand old building conveniently set right next to one of the gyms and the buildings where most of my classes will be. Within our halls there is a study (the size of the RMIT library), a computer lab (would you like a new iMac or PC?), a restaurant and the list goes on. The dorm rooms themselves are slightly less palatial, but really all that you need – and I dare say that I won't be spending too much time in there.

Our Penn State ID card is used for everything – to swipe for meal points, to shop (like a debit card), to withdraw cash at an ATM, to borrow library books, to enter our dorms, even to dispense free newspapers! I know of a certain institution that might benefit from such technology…

I'm having an amazing time and am not homesick in the slightest. I've met heaps of friends and everyone is so much fun. I'm enjoying 'just' being a student and having few responsibilities!