Traveling in a country that speaks English, it was easy to forget that I was not, in fact, in America. In our introduction to the Australia study-abroad program, one of our professors warned us that while it was tempting, we should not make the mistake of treating Australia as if it were the U.S. because there are cultural differences that do actually matter — and to act otherwise is to be an ignorant American.

One large difference (one that shouldn’t seem like that big of a deal at first) is which side of the sidewalk to walk on. Common sense, no? Here, we naturally walk on the right side of a street or sidewalk and pass on the left. In Australia, not so—you walk on the left side. It’s a fast and easy test to determine if you are a foreigner. The result is often a collision or an awkward back-and-forth dance.

I hadn’t realized how ingrained walking on the left side of the street had become in me after only three months down under until I collided with a family of four in LAX after arriving from Brisbane. It’s a seemingly small cultural difference, but the consequences of getting it wrong are rather embarrassing.

Another cultural difference — that while minor, was strange — was the food. Mexican food does not exist. This may not seem strange, except that almost every other type of cultural food is found in abundance. You want Thai food? Japanese food? Peruvian food? Indian food? You can easily find a restaurant or four within a several-block radius. You want a burrito? Good luck.

I also did not eat banana for three months. Over the summer, a cyclone hit the banana farms and destroyed the crops. Australia does not import their produce, so any bananas were of poor quality and ridiculously expensive.

Almost all of the food is grown in Australia, and those Aussies are proud of it. Every apple, orange, squash, etc. comes with a sticker that says “Made in Australia” with an outline of the country. Beyond the produce, most of the packaged food, dairy, drinks and meat products also are made in Australia. Whether this is done from nationalist pride or a desire to keep out the “undesirable” products is still up for debate. Either way, it was always a feel-good moment to know you were drinking orange juice squeezed from oranges grown in Australia.

Also, there is no straight-up coffee. If you order “coffee” or “decaf” you will get stared at. Same with “non-fat.” Instead, there are flat whites, long blacks, skinny lattes and cappuccinos. It was an adventure to order, but always delicious, because coffee is ubiquitous.

Rounding out the cultural disparities is Australian fashion. It is a combination of 80s and European couture, only without actually caring. The colors are bright and bold — orange, pink, teal, yellow and red polka dots and stripes, with belts tied around the mid-section.

Jewelry without fail consists of large, plastic clunky jewelry equally as bright and gaudy. Headbands are also the rage — the sparklier the better. Shoes are of vast importance, and, again, as bold and patterned as possible. The saleswomen are brutally honest and, as a consequence, very helpful. Anything goes, fashion-wise, but if it looks horrid, they will tell you.

Coming back to America, now, the clothes look incredibly bland, lackluster and all the same. What happened to the beautifully loud dresses and shirts? The clothes were not about finding the shortest skirt possible, but instead showing off your personality. I wish I had bought more clothes while I was there, because going shopping here is painful.

This article barely touches upon the differences economically (like how expensive books and magazines are), environmentally (like how they actually talk about global warming, the destruction of the reefs, how to work towards solving the problems and how hot and humid it is, which my hair loved) or in the sports world (every sports section was 90 percent cricket, no lie), but they do exist, no matter how similar our countries may seem.

Because the two nations are comparable (John Howard and George W. Bush being BFF comes to mind), it makes their differences even more startling. After three months, however, I was impressed how quickly it all became the norm. Coming back to the U.S. was an adjustment, mostly because I was only in the country for one week before winter quarter classes began. But instead of suffering from cultural shock, mostly I just miss it.