When I told people that I was going abroad to Australia, I always heard the same response: “That will be great because there is no language barrier.”

After six months down under, I came to the conclusion that those people had clearly never spent a single day of their lives in Australia. With Aussie phrases like “fair dinkum,” “good onya,” “bogan,” and the ever-famous “mate,” it is a wonder that Americans and Australians both call their language English.

Before leaving the United States, I, like all abroad students must, faced the fact that I may encounter a fair bit of culture shock in a new country. To me, classic images of Australia had always been of boomerangs whizzing across the outback, men wrestling crocodiles and kangaroos bounding around everywhere – even bus stops. In the face of these preconceived ideals, it is fair to say I slammed into that brick wall of culture shock.

Living in Melbourne, the second most populated city in Australia, I was nowhere near the outback, and soon learned that no Australian had even heard of the outback. Everyone calls it “the bush” instead. In fact, Melbournians enjoy a city teeming with art, culture, sport and food. The city is known for its laneway culture, where the abundance of restaurants, shops and bars continued until they had nowhere else to go but into the nooks and crannies of alleyways. It is shocking to follow friends through a labyrinth of graffiti, dumpsters and people peeing in alleys before on your way to the newest and hottest spot in the city, but that is just a normal night out in Melbourne.

As I began to immerse myself in Aussie city culture, I marveled at how mistaken I had been about the country. People do not run around “throwing shrimps on the barbie.” They live in bustling cities, watch Australian-rules football and go out for cappuccinos. (Aside from the language barrier, they are very much like us!)

Just as I thought I was ready to adapt and trade my American thoughts of fast food and baseball for Australian cafés and rugby, I stumbled upon the all-American home of the Whopper. It looked like Burger King, it tasted like Burger King, but it was not Burger King at all. It was Hungry Jacks, the all-Australian home of the Whopper. I then realized there was no need for me to ditch my own customs in order to adapt, but that I should be completely open as I learned more about the Australian way of life.

One night I went to dinner with Aussie friends, who insisted on ordering for me and having me try a bite before telling me what the dish was. I ended up eating a prime cut of kangaroo. Despite its resemblance to venison, I was horrified that my first look at their national emblem was of it cooked and served on a plate.

Amidst their laughter and my innocence, my friends promised me I would see a live kangaroo soon and sent me on a road trip to a prime spot for kangaroo sightings…a golf course. As I gazed at the marsupials bouncing around and eating the pristine grass, I was filled with excitement at finally actualizing one of my Aussie preconceptions. The feeling lasted until someone teed off and drilled a golf ball toward my new friends. Luckily, it missed by a few inches.

It was then that I learned my most important lesson of life abroad: things are not always what you expect. They’re often even better. Sure, I was thrilled to finally see a kangaroo - not on my plate or on the fifth green - but I appreciated laughs over dinner with friends, and that was more important