Almost ten years ago, I spent about five months abroad - mostly in Bath, England - studying and attending a program for American students. The program, which was primarily based in the humanities, was atypically small that year. With the enrollment period falling within months of 9/11, the applicant pool was essentially halved by an apparent and understandable aversion to foreign travel. The result was a necessarily tight-knit and somewhat insulated group of students who struggled to embrace their new and brief lives in a foreign but not so foreign country. With the unavoidable and tedious group bonding, I was frequently annoyed with some of my peers and ultimately resistant to hanging out with more than 3 Americans at once. My chosen alternatve was to seek out local culture to immerse myself in. Which, since I was in England and was just 20, was obviously going to be watching English football at the saltiest pub I could find.