by Nick Greene > George Washington University | photos Nick Greene

Each year, thousands of American students trade their campus life for the exciting chance to study abroad. We should not forget, however, that many students do not have this opportunity. Some can’t afford the high costs of traveling overseas. Others are denied because of their grades. Some—not me, of course—are deemed a flight risk by a high-and-mighty judge on a power trip who thought it was fair to steal your passport just because of a trumped-up vehicular manslaughter charge.

Despite this hurdle, I was still able to re-create an authentic study abroad experience by traversing the beautiful American Midwest. I simulated a thrilling journey through Europe with nothing but ingenuity, attitude, and a Ziploc bag full of ground-up NoDoz to exchange with truckers for rides.

My first step was to say “goodbye” to my friends here. I told them that I’d see them again in no time—I knew deep down that upon returning, these pathetic homebodies would be ignorant to the many pleasures of world travel. No doubt they spent the ensuing months looking longingly at the front door like a dog waiting for his master to come home. This master, however, would have Hofbräuhaus mugs instead of dog treats, and Facebook photos of mimes instead of a pat on the head.

Americans are considered the great Satan where I was pretending to go, so I stitched a Canadian flag to my backpack and spoke slowly and politely about the CN Tower and Martin Short. This way, nobody treated me rudely as I strolled along the romantic canals of Toledo, Ohio.

When dining, it was important to remember that gratuity is the single greatest danger to Europe’s fragile economy. When noshing at any one of Wisconsin’s fine road stops, I avoided tipping at all costs. I would leave a polite “merci,” and my fake Canadian email address so I could keep in touch with the fascinating waiter who told me all about last night’s American Idol results show and where the nearest homeless shelter is.

Why a homeless shelter, you ask? Whether in South Bend, Indiana, or Peoria, Illinois, I needed somewhere to sleep. Homeless shelters are the closest things we have in America to hostels, so take advantage. By sleeping in a room with twenty disgusting vagrants, I came to understand the communal spirit of Europe. I’ll never forget exchanging traveling stories with Stab-Wound Jerry, or sharing a malt liquor with Meningitis Tony.

As hard as it was to pry myself away from my new friends, I really needed to enjoy the personal freedoms one gets to enjoy while overseas. The place I had in mind was Amsterdam. To recreate the ease and convenience of the Red Light District’s brothels, I walked by storefronts and thought terrible thoughts about the mannequins.  

Let’s face it; I would have been eating McDonalds and getting rejected by women in Paris or Rome, so why not in Indianapolis? The joy of studying abroad isn’t in the unique cultural immersion or living in a city where men openly wear Capri pants—it’s in holding it over your friends’ heads upon returning. When I got back I ordered a Guinness and complained that it tasted better in Dublin, I called Prague “Praha.” And boy, were my friends impressed!

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