Elementary (2013): Our bus arrived about 1.5 hours later than scheduled, around 8 PM. Having read that many students take a taxi and ask the driver to help them look for housing or take them to the cheapest hotel, we decided to do the same (we had no other choice, as we hadn't prepared in advance, and taxi drivers know the city better). So, we took a taxi, explained the situation, and he said it was his first time doing this, but he would try to help us (we didn't understand the rest of his words because he had a very strong accent; he was from India). The housing search was, to put it mildly, strange; he just shouted to passersby from the car asking if they had any housing for rent, and half of the Americans didn't understand him either. We decided to take matters into our own hands and talk to them ourselves. Unfortunately, we couldn't find housing, and most Americans just wanted to know how we dared to take such a trip. However, we did make one useful acquaintance: it turned out one of the passersby owned a cafe and often hired students in the summer, so she gave us her phone number and told us to call if we needed a second job. After 1.5 hours of searching, he took us to a Rodeway Inn (a common chain of affordable and comfortable hotels), which cost about $250 a week—a quite acceptable price for two. We decided to dedicate the next day to getting to know the city to navigate it better, and at the same time, we needed to look for housing, buy a SIM card, and, of course, go see the OCEAN!!!!

I must say that we managed almost everything quite quickly, especially since Atlantic City is not such a big city; it is located on a rather narrow island where up to 10 streets fit along its length... The only problem that arose that day was finding housing because, in our search, we learned about all the areas of the city where we shouldn't go... there were 3 such areas: Latin American, Chinese, and African American. While in the first two they just looked at us with a 'you don't belong here' expression, in the latter, they told us directly: 'you better not walk here'... naturally, we understood the hint immediately and decided to end our adventure for that day, especially since we decided to go to work the next day. IMPORTANT: GUYS, IF THERE IS A POSSIBILITY, FIND OUT ABOUT THE CITY AREAS IN ADVANCE, ESPECIALLY IF IT HAS UNSAFE NEIGHBORHOODS. By the end of the week, we finally found housing using Craigslist, called the number listed in the ad, and a girl told us that 7 girls (5 Russians and 2 Romanians) were already living in the house and one room was empty. She also happily said she would help us move (i.e., she would come for us by car so we wouldn't have to drag our things across the city). I was incredibly lucky with my house!!! All the girls are SUPER!!! We still maintain warm relationships, visit each other, and the apartment wasn't bad—we had a great kitchen and even a laundry room. The only downside was one shared bathroom; as you understand, for 9 girls, that is very little, but fortunately, we had to go to work at different times.

Now let's move on to the story about work: according to the offer, my position was described as a general clerk in a large grocery store like 'Auchan'. I thought I would either be stocking shelves or helping in the food preparation departments. But as soon as I arrived at work, all my dreams vanished at once. The manager said that a lot of students had arrived this year, so all he could offer us was a minimum number of hours (25 per week) and a job as a cashier. What horror I experienced after these words!!! After all, it is a great responsibility; besides, you need to have a good level of language proficiency, and you also need to constantly pronounce words like '33', '3', etc. This combination of 'th' sounds never yielded to me, but the main test was waiting for me ahead... To begin with, for 3 days I just sat at a computer for 3-4 hours a day and watched training videos (and all this was paid as working hours, but to be honest, I understood little from these trainings because the terminology was, to put it mildly, cosmic; only about 20% was understandable). Then I stood next to senior cashiers and soaked up every operation, every step like a sponge... and there was a lot to know (different credit cards required knowledge of their code, and you had to remember what operations to perform with receipts, know the numbers of product groups, etc.). By the end of the work week, I had made 2 A4 sheets with various operations, but the most terrible thing for me was returning or exchanging goods. In such cases, you had to pick up the receiver, press the 'intercom' button, and shout to the whole hall: 'Return on register 5'. And so, imagine the moment of truth: cool music is playing in the hall, and then your voice ruins everything with a terrible accent, calling for someone's help, and you're lucky if you're not standing at register number 3, and the whole hall doesn't hear your pronunciation of 'Return on register FREE'... Honestly, for the first 2 weeks, I didn't really like my job; it was hard to remember everything, but I had a very good team—they always helped me, which is why I was able to adapt. After 3-4 weeks, I already felt like a pro and loved night shifts, because that's when we would take a break with someone and race on electric shopping carts around the store like F1 racers. Besides, sometimes I received tips, which is quite strange for a cashier position. And I was genuinely amazed at how many Russians lived in the city... I remember one funny incident: while I was scanning items for a Russian customer, we started talking, using both Russian and English, and then he left, and I saw that he forgot a bag of bread, and I shouted to him: 'EXCUSE ME, YOU FORGOT YOUR BRED' (implying the word 'bread'), we laughed for about 5 minutes... I got my second job about 2 weeks after arriving by calling the number that the woman gave me when we were looking for housing. The work was simple and tasty, but less interesting because I worked in the kitchen, cutting fruit and pouring toppings on ice cream, and I almost didn't communicate with customers or employees. Moreover, it greatly affected my body, as my sides were rapidly expanding to the north and east.

Intermediate (2014): Of course, after 24 hours on the bus, I was very tired, but I still had to decide how to get from Knoxville to Pigeon Forge. My new friend suggested going with them, saying that her acquaintance would pick her up and he could give me a ride, especially since I had arranged my housing in advance and knew where I was going. Approaching the city, I remember how tiny it seemed to me, lonely, lost between mountains and forests—it was love. So, I had to meet my roommates; they turned out to be 2 girls. It turned out that we would work for the same employer but in different stores (he owned several souvenir shops; besides typical souvenirs, they sold various cool t-shirts with prints like 'Selfie Queen', 'I'm allergic to your bull***', etc., umbrellas in the shape of bottles with the inscription 'I'm your bottle of wine', etc.). Arriving at work, my employer first asked: 'How many hours would you like?', to which I replied: 'The maximum possible!', to which he replied: 'Okay, will 60 suit you?' Of course, I agreed and never regretted my decision. I really fell in love with my work, especially I loved doing henna tattoos; besides, you could often get small tips for them. In addition, I was completely satisfied with my work schedule: I worked 5 days a week, but for a full 12-14 hours a day, and sometimes I had up to 70 hours a week, but I almost never got tired, and time flew by for me because I was constantly busy helping customers.

Adapting to the place was largely helped by the student center organized by the Baptist church; there you could eat, wash your things, and just chat with students and make new acquaintances. And also, trips to the mountains, shopping, and other entertainment were often organized at the center, and all this was free. With all my heart, I want to wish health to those people who worked there and helped students.