Student Bloggers

During our introductory orientation to the University of Sydney they made jokes about culture shock, honored the aboriginal heritage of the land, introduced us to the advisors in charge of enrolling us in courses, and made us follow the study abroad program on Instagram. But perhaps the most valuable thing they said to us, something we all laughed about aloud to each other but secretly took to heart, was a simple phrase: “Always say yes.”

Now of course this doesn’t mean say yes to ice (which is what Australians call Methamphetamine), or say yes to partying every single night, or say yes to rides from strangers. We hopefully all have enough common sense to realize that. But they went on to say that we have a very limited amount of time here, and that we should take advantage of every opportunity. Sure it’s healthy to lie in bed and watch Netflix sometimes, but if everyone else in the group chat is going to Bondi Beach you should probably change into some bathers and go along, if not for the camel ride then just to go to one of the most famous and beautiful beaches in Australia.

Now, I’m an outgoing person with a lot of spunk and energy in me, so I figured it’d be an easy thing to accomplish. But a few nights later the Uni held an international student party with a dance competition and every single part of me wanted to stay in for the evening, despite the fact that all my friends were going. The party started out slow and I wasn’t having fun, so I was mostly on my phone and looking to cut out early, but soon I was dragged to the dance floor by a friend. The MC announced a dance contest, and though I am a ridiculously energetic and eclectic dancer I could not be convinced to join during the 10 minute sign-up period.

Once the competition had begun they made a call for last-minute volunteers and my friends basically pushed me from the crowd out onto the dance floor, and suddenly I was dancing in front of hundreds of people. I was mortified, but about halfway through I told myself it didn’t matter and pulled out my very best move: the worm. I shook my butt and twerked and did the worm for a full 30 seconds. And then the competition broke for deliberation, and I was chosen to move on to the second round.

The second round was set into motion, and I noticed all the men competing were doing a pelvic thrusting move on the ground, and since I am not one to take myself seriously (especially not in a dance competition), I finished out my second 30-second round with some very intense and manly floor-thrusting, which I think cracked a lot of people up, and so I credit my election to the third round to that move.

Suddenly we’d gone from around 25 contestants to 6, and I was even more horrified than before, but during the most recent deliberation I’d been joking around with some of my friends and doing the robot and some other tacky dance moves (e.g. the cabbage patch, the snorkel, the sprinkler, etc.), so I decided to just let go of all my inhibitions. In front of a few hundred people I did the robot to DJ Snake’s Turn Down For What. I was only a couple of beers in, so I guess I have to blame it on the adrenaline and the audience. I’m always trying to make any audience laugh. And I guess the judges pitied me because I made it to the final four, winning myself a free tour of the capital city Canberra, and several free drink vouchers.

Afterwards I was congratulated, danced with, laughed at, and patted on the back by too many people to count. Although the counting issue may have had to do with the drink vouchers. Even now, a few weeks later, people I introduce myself to still say “oh you’re that girl from the dance competition!” and I laugh awkwardly and say “please don’t judge me based off of that”. It’s a great time.

There are two morals I wish for you to take from this story. The first: just say yes. Even if you think it’s not going to be fun, it’s always better to go out and try than to sit around at home. And the second: never wear pants that highlight sweat-soaked underwear to a dance party.