Western Charm Scottish Student Experiences America By Working At A Ranch

At the end of May, I found myself with a newly acquired degree in psychology and an urgent need to establish a career.

So, I promptly decided to run away and travel. But where to? The world is a daunting place for a lone woman with a rucksack.

North America seemed like a good destination because, like Scotland, it’s an English-speaking country and our cultures are similar in many respects.

Like most students, my cash-flow was a mere trickle, so I knew I’d have to work to pay my way. However, working legally in the United States is notoriously difficult for “aliens.” So what to do?

Luckily there exists the British Universities North America Club, a nonprofit organization which arranges flights and summer-job visas for university students whilst its USA counterpart, the Council on International Student Exchange, sends American students across the Atlantic to spend a summer in the UK.

These organizations believe working vacations are the best and most affordable way to see another country from the “inside.”

With my destination and visa settled, the next task was to find that all-important job. Since the university I attended for four years was in Glasgow, I wanted to spend the summer in the countryside, preferably near the Rockies.

A rainy afternoon in the library with the book “Summer Jobs in the USA” narrowed my job search to an Idaho dude ranch. It was particularly appealing because of its size (40 guests), its philosophy (being one with nature) and the opportunity for recreation in one’s time off (everything from biking to archery to yoga to, of course, horseback riding).

My first “culture shock” experience occurred with the arrival of the application form. It was longer, more detailed and more personal than any I’d ever encountered, especially for a seasonal position. For example: “Who is the person you most admire and why?”

The hours it took to complete the application (when I should have been doing my final-year project) were worthwhile, though, because I was hired for the summer as a waitress/ housekeeper at Hidden Creek Ranch in Harrison, Idaho.

I was very excited to visit the American West to see firsthand some of the “icons” many of you don’t even realize are icons: people wearing cowboy hats and boots for practical purposes, not because they’re at a fancy dress party; pine-covered mountains (Scotland’s mountains haven’t yet recovered from the deforestation of the Industrial Revolution in the late 1700s); logging trucks with square, swollen noses; American barns; American bears.

Hiking in Scotland offers no risk of meeting a dangerous animal, but in Idaho, I could potentially encounter a bear, a coyote, a cougar or a snake - or all four at once! It’s a whole new consideration.

I arrived at the ranch after traveling for two days and turning my watch back eight hours, which felt very “Groundhog Day-esque” - as if I’d been given a whole day of my life over again.

It sounds trite to say the first thing that struck me about this new country was its people, but it’s true.

My idea of a “typical” American was a warped amalgamation of what I’d been fed by various media. So, I thought if you weren’t a Hollywood star or a serial killer, then you were in the audience of “Oprah.” It has been such a pleasure to meet and build friendships with the interesting mix of staff and ranch guests - and to have my warped amalgamation confirmed … just kidding.

While there is no typical American, I have noticed general traits that aren’t so prevalent in Scotland: the immediate openness - people extending their hands and telling you their names rather than hanging back and waiting for an introduction. Also, people here seem very self-assured and enthusiastic, and there are fewer unspoken rules of interaction - which are hard to explain if you haven’t experienced them.

I often wonder what Americans said to Scottish visitors before the film “Braveheart” was released, because the first words most people say to me are, “Where’s your accent from?” followed by, “Wow, have you seen ‘Braveheart’?”

My life before the ranch and since I arrived is markedly different.

My last few months of university were a solitary experience in which people were an unwelcome interruption in my affair with library computers. I was traveling to and from the city every day, spending 12 hours a day in intellectual pursuit.

Here at the ranch, I live in a self-contained community of 35 people, plus 30 to 40 guests.

Here, we live, work, eat and socialize together. What makes my situation even further removed is that I have no means of transport, nor do I have access to a television.

So, for up to a week at a time, life outside the ranch might as well not even exist. Olympics? What Olympics? I also spend 12 hours a day doing practical tasks, and my fellow housekeepers will vouch for me when I say our conversations have been far from intellectual.

Perhaps the biggest change I’ve noticed in myself is that I am now a “people person.” I’ve adapted well to the constant companionship at the ranch and usually end up with only an hour of “me” time in a day.

But that’s enough because of the fantastic wild environment that surrounds me in those 60 minutes. The countryside is calming and grounding and captivating, and there’s so much of it to explore.

Settling into ranch life came easily and I quickly learned the ranks: cowboys, everyone else - and then housekeepers. Most seasonal workers are urban or suburban kids from across the U.S.A., and initially we quaked in the presence of real cowboys. In ranch hierarchy, the head wrangler is somewhere between God and Jesus.

Not long after I arrived, four kittens also arrived - in the barn. The kittens and I bonded in our “new kids on the ranch” status.

I took it upon myself to feed and water them and encourage them to chase string in an attempt to promote the mouse-catching skills their absent mother couldn’t teach them. When I was told they could easily be taken by a coyote, I wondered how useful their string-chasing skills would really be. Perhaps I should have taught them self-defense.

There have been innumerable incidents in America that have highlighted my unfamiliarity with the culture:

I’ve learned that walking across a road when the sign says “Don’t Walk” is against all rules, as is sitting in a pretty outside location enjoying a beer, except in designated areas.

I learned driving a couple of hours to town isn’t considered far, and 16-year-olds can make the journey alone.

I learned the tag price isn’t what you pay the cashier (being a reserved Scot, I waited until I was back at the ranch to ask why I’d been overcharged - the joy of sales tax).

I learned you pay for the doctor, but local telephone calls are free.

I learned Spokane is pronounced “Spokan.”

I learned a dusty atmosphere plays havoc with one’s nasal functioning, and that plantain prevents mosquito bites from itching.

And most importantly, I’ve learned the portrayal of America on British television is far removed from the wonderful country I’ve come to.

Last week, as I stood behind the tack barn watching a horse having a hernia removed on the grass in the cool light of morning, I thought of the American student working in Scotland right now - and I hoped she is as happily bewildered as I am.

For more information about the Council on International Student Exchange, write to 205 E. 42nd St., New York, NY 10017-5706 Attn: Work Exchanges Dept. Phone: (212) 666-3619.