Everyone was talking about it. Its just something that everyone does. To me, well, it really didnt mean much. So youre off campus for a quarter, big deal. Think of what the social butterfly in you is going to miss New Student Week, drunken freshman, Monday night Keg, Thursday Deuce, Saturday Kegs and EggsPower Hour, Prep School Party, the list goes on. I didnt think I could or would do it. Not to mention my friends, my jobs, off campus living, oh my god Busch Light. No! Not me! Its out of the question! Then theres all the paperwork, the meetings, GPA requirements. Mix that with class and a fraternal dosage of weekly debauchery, and its a recipe for an even more depressing winter quarter. Then one dreary Evanston night, gathered around my usual workless Sunday comrades, in my fourth floor penthouse suit in FIJI, I picked up the phone and made that fateful call, ignorant of the consequences it would yield in the next months. Yeah, I need to make an order for delivery. So I literally chickened out on the first try. This was huge, something Im going to bore my grandchildren with. So I picked up the phone, again, and put my proverbial balls to the wall. Hey dad, I want to study abroad. As the normal silence that accompanies most of my spur of the moment ideas ended, I somehow managed to simultaneously rationalize the decision to both my parents and myself. After completing the necessary paperwork and pestering the Study Abroad Office and Medill just enough, it was done. So here I am, another workless Sunday night, except everythings different Evanston is now the East End of London. Lake Michigan pales in comparison to the Atlantic or the English Channel for that matter. The colossal skyscrapers and miles of concrete that line the Chicago River are worlds away from the historic churches, museums, and parks that line the Thames. No more local sight seeing on the El, Im all about The Underground here. One minute youre in the financial district rubbing shoulders with the London elite as you pass them on the street, and not ten minutes and a few Tube stops later youre soaking up what little sun you can in the middle of Hyde Park. And best of all, leave the fake ID at home - Im pub crawling and its all legal. Its obvious why anyone chooses to study abroad. New people, foreign places its your basic sex, drugs, & rock n roll story in a foreign country. It certainly trumps the humdrum monotony of an everyday college career, which is still sex, drugs, and rock n roll, but in Temperanceville, USA a.k.a Evanston. Ive never traveled outside of North America, so I figured my first trip shouldnt be somewhere too exotic. Little did I know that coming here would be an experience unique to anywhere else in the world. The cultures arent completely different, but there is a Gap between them. So heres my advice to any potential study abroad students coming to the region. Mind the Gap. Those three little words grace the pavement of Londons famed Underground transport system. It serves as a warning for the millions of people who use the Tube daily to stay back as a train arrives or departs from the station. For me, its a harsh reminder that while Im a guest in a country very similar to my own, the Gap is definitely there. If youre not careful, the linguistic and cultural train roaring down the track is headed straight for you. As an American traveling to the UK, I knew that I would be exposed to traditional English societal norms and practices. It has become painfully clear to me that nothing has really changed, but the subtle differences in the language make communicating with any native an adventure as soon as I open my mouth. Wheres the bathroom? Its toilet or Loo. Mind the Gap. Pass the Ketchup. Its red sauce. Mind the Gap. Any mail today? You mean post. Mind the Gap. Whens the soccer game? Its called football. Mind the Gap you twat. My native language is not the only helpless victim of the Gap. I have also forced to change many facets of my American way of life. Instead of enduring the pains of a complete culture assimilation, I have to to re-learn my own doing it proper, as they say on this side of the ocean. Some Brits will tell you that the English have no culture. They are your generic western world people -- simply, America with an English accent. While their may be some validity to that statement from an English perspective, Ive encountered many discrepancies between the two cultures. These subtle, but major differences are like cultural paper cuts small, yet lethal, and lamentable. On your average day in London youll hit the Gap as soon as you get out of bed. Bacon n eggs for breakfast is definitely not regional phenomena, but you find yourself eating certain foods 12 hours before you normally would. I cant seem to stomach baked beans and mushrooms at eight in the morning. So you decide to go out for a bite, and then it hits you. No its not the harsh British wind, and its not the rain because you ALWAYS carry your umbrella these days. This pain, a sort of burning sensation slowly creeps up your leg and attacks your pockets. Its not crabs, its the exchange rate. As soon as I stepped off the plane, I did what came natural to any American in an airport I looked for the closest McDonalds. Realizing the absence of the dollar menu, I hung my head and held back grease-filled tears. As if getting your money sliced in half werent enough, the English deliver one more fuck you to American travelers by depriving us of the dollar bill. The fanny-pack isnt a fashion faux pas, its vital to hauling the pounds of pence you build up as the day progresses. Being financially homesick is expected, but having to double every price on the supermarket shelves is more depressing than engineering majors schedulein the winterwho lives in Plex. And you can forget any late night BK runs. I cant bring myself to pay $4 for a Whopper. You must be joking. As the sun goes down in England, the Gap actually starts to look a little brighter. The English night life has far surpassed its U.S counterparts, offering more dispersed nocturnal activities for the people of London. Its an old city, one of the oldest in the world, so using your A Z London: Londons Best Selling Street Atlas doesnt make you a stereotypical tourist, because even Londoners struggle to get around the maze that is the city. Once you know where the FUCK you are, the possibilities are endless. But Mind the Gap while youre out The British approach to a night on the town is far more advanced than the binge-inclined tendencies of Americas college students today. These kids have been at it for far longer than we have, and theyve mastered the art of the imbibe. Its unlikely to see that 2 a.m. ambulance outside of your dorm window. If you work at a slow steady place, you may be able to leave with your belligerent dignity, and the dried remnants of your liver. My weapon of choice thus far, has been the local public house. London offers an endless variety of pubs for the everyday lush. In a city where every hour is happy hour, sitting down to a relaxing pint of an array of different lagers and ales is a welcomed change. Try doing that at Prairie Moon or The Keg between classes. For all you club hoppers out there, the Gap offers a veritable pick your poison type atmosphere, different from the centralized party zones in the big city.. You can go to any of Londons premier late-night hotspots, many with multiple rooms dedicated to the style of music played, and drug of choice. Lights beam as troths of Ecstasy users flock to the dance floor moving to the drug induced rhythm of an assortment drum n bass, techno, trance, and hip-hop, while the rude boys are busy blazing spliffs and getting high off the music. Looking back at all these cultural misdemeanors the English have perpetrated on my American way of life, I can only count down the days until Im reunited with fast-food, fake IDs, and friends. My wounds are gradually healing, but until Im home, Ill be stocking up on band-aids. For heavens sake, its plaster. Mind the Gap. Till we meet again, cheers America!     Feel like grabbing a pint and watching the football game with Cory? E-mail him at c-smith-1@northwestern.edu.