“There was nothing quite like it: no reception, no internet, and no one that I had previously even known on the island to cling to — just stars, sky, and ocean all around. ”
Jessica Ho at Lady Elliot Island
When I was rushed back to the United States amidst the growing pandemic at the end of March, every other conversation that I had went along the lines of condolences over my study abroad experience’s sudden termination. However, returning home never felt like an affair of disappointment and regret. My three months in Australia were so rich and full because of the commitment I made to myself as soon as I boarded the plane in January: to live for the present and to live for myself for once.
Chasing this motto down to the ends of the earth (quite literally), the first thing I did after touching down in Sydney was to allow myself to wander around the city without an agenda nor a map — and this is what set the precedent for my time down under.
Taking a risk on an online class that ended in a final project field trip to Lady Elliot Island, a tiny eco-resort on the southernmost tip of the Great Barrier Reef, I ended up experiencing the most magical night of my life. Lying under the clearest vista of the Milky Way galaxy I had ever seen, it was just me and two classmates on the sandy beach of an island with a diameter just short of a football field. We had spent most of the night stargazing among the purplish hues of the Magellan Cloud and the bright beacon of the Southern Cross. On our lap around the tiny reef island in the Pacific, we encountered dozens of nesting green turtles. Careful not to make any sudden noises or movements, I just barely evaded one mother turtle that came barreling past me in a mad sand-paddle.
Blue Mountains
Frasier Island
Every day was a surreal mix of learning about the island’s eco-sustainability, snorkeling among manta rays, and frantically trying to finish assignments with my classmates so we could have extra time to swim. There was nothing quite like it: no reception, no internet, and no one that I had previously even known on the island to cling to — just stars, sky, and ocean all around. This trip was a key puzzle piece to my spiritual sanity that I never knew I needed, and I somehow got class credit for it!
While I loved my spring break shenanigans following Lady Elliot Island that swept me from the coast of Queensland all the way up to Bali, my favorite part of the rest of my study abroad experience was actually the daily hustle and bustle of Sydney. In my balancing act of routine and spontaneity, I never felt the pressure to outgrow my typical hometown reputation of my try-hard studiousness, but I also surprised myself by returning home with a fresh tattoo and newfound love for surfing.
Back at home in Los Angeles, I was always in a rush — getting to this class on time, then rushing to work to meet with my boss, then dragging myself back onto campus for back-to-back extracurricular activities. I never caught a break on this tiny island of University Park Campus that became my whole world.
Sydney Harbor Ferry from Manly
In Sydney, I was able to take things at my own pace: without the commitments of having any existing relationships to maintain or organizations to report to (outside of school). I spent an extraordinary amount of quality time with myself. If I were to best describe it, it was like I was constantly taking myself out on dates: perusing museum exhibits, visiting old cinemas, tracking down cult-favorite restaurants, napping in the park. Though I made plenty of friends from USC, Australia, and beyond, I think the bond that I forged the most deeply was the one with myself.
There are countless memories that I shared with new friends, testing out a small business’ experimental catering menu after I had overstayed past closing, spending a whole day lost in the gorgeous Blue Mountains outside of Sydney, learning Aussie card games from locals in an island cabin — the list goes on. But, I think my favorite memories were the ones I had with myself.
I found peace in routine and immersion. Much of my most beloved memories of Australia aren’t the ones of wild weekend trips and beach kickbacks. Actually, the most vivid part of my experience abroad was simply my daily commute to school and back — delightfully prosaic mornings of running to the bus stop after fending off a flock of ibises from the $1 banh mi clutched in my arms and sleepy evenings of nodding off in a metro on my return from any random corner of Sydney to the sweet musical stylings of Daniel Caesar with my favorite pair of headphones.