The problem with crossing the street

I think one of my favorite things about studying abroad is being surprised by things that one never expects could be surprising.  I enjoy this because I think it says a lot about what we as people are used to in our daily lives, about what just happens around us without much notice.  So along these lines, I find it funny that one of my bigger concerns in the month that I’ve been in Australia hasn’t been anything like adjusting to the culture, feeling overwhelmed by being in a new city, or not knowing where to go (though of course, these are applicable), but rather one of those little things that one never expects couple be surprising: crossing the street.

Yes, crossing the street.

So, as I was well aware before I came to Australia, cars drive on the left hand side of the ride.  This was something that seemed of rather little significance to me before I left, kind of like the fact that Australians have an accent or the fact that the seasons are reversed here.  I thought it would be something I would notice, but not really deal with too much.  Fast forward to the day I land in Australia: pretty much the first thing I encounter when I step out of the Sydney airport (aside from sweltering heat and sweaty feet) is the reversal of a deeply embedded knowledge.  Now, in the abstract, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.  Everything is flipped around, so what? Well the problem is that, in real life (you know, NOT the abstract), when I cross the street, I look left.  Every time.  And perhaps the bigger problem is that I have been doing that for the whole twenty years of my existence, and the fact that cars from the left has never been disputed.  I know, deep down, that cars couldn’t possibly be coming at me from the right, unless I’m somewhere crossing a one way street.  But 99.9 percent of the time, what I know to be true (and never consciously think about) is true.  Left, right, left.

With all this in mind, crossing the street the first few days was an exercise in fear for me, which is funny, because I am from the Bay Area and have spent the majority of my days jaywalking in San Francisco.  I have spent a large portion of my time in Australia trying to figure out which way to look, and at first, my head almost physically wouldn’t let me look right.  It was like my body was screaming at me, “What are you doing? I KNOW that’s not where cars come from!” (this is all kind of Darwinian isn’t it?) The problem becomes even more pronounced here in Melbourne, where I’m living, because of the huge presence of trams.  I’ve started doing literally 360 sweeps of the area I’m trying to cross because trams come out of nowhere sometimes.  One thing I was doing for awhile was looking right, which is correct, and then thinking I must be wrong, and standing there on the corner glancing in every direction looking like an idiot.  In some places, Australians have taken pity on the poor tourists in their cities, and have written on the sidewalks, “Look right!” I think this is very nice of them, and I found it really helpful to have a visual reminder when I was trying to navigate Sydney those first few days.

Things are improving for me with each passing day.  I’m getting much better at looking right, even though deep down, I feel like it violates some incredibly deep nature.  I feel good every time I’m walking down the street and immediately look right.  It’s like a small victory of sorts.  For me, dealing with problems arising from this seemingly normal practice has been in exercise in being flexible.  As our EAP director pointed out to us during orientation, cities are set up to be convenient for the people who live in them, not visitors.  This random, trivial challenge has been sort of a funny reminder for me that I need to be more open about what I consider normal, and keep an open mind about the way other people do things.  It may not be your way, but it is “a” way, and there are many ways to do things.

So here’s hoping that all of you take care when crossing the street, even if you are just wandering around Isla Vista.  You never know what could be coming from around the next bend …