As an American who’s only lived in Wales for two months, I still have a lot to learn.
The language confuses me a bit – saying pants instead of trousers has led to a few very awkward moments – the weather annoys me and the accents perplex me sometimes. However, even with those slight difficulties, life here has generally been amazing.
And how better to learn about Wales than by working behind a bar at the Millennium Stadium during the Autumn Rugby Internationals? I finally got there for the Australia game, after missing out on the visits of New Zealand and Argentina games for various reasons.
One thing I didn’t see coming was the sheer coldness of my workplace. As soon as I got to my station on the sixth floor I began shivering profusely. I enjoyed the atmosphere nonetheless, it gave me a buzz to see the hundreds of stands setting up for the influx of fans for the sold-out game.
I felt very welcome as soon as I met my co-workers, who explained various aspects of rugby to me when they noticed I was American – and, all right, after I kept asking. We also discussed the differences between British and American cultures, which resulted in some confusion and humour.
We had to wait about one-and-a-half hours for people to mill in, many dressed as dragons, which was odd but amusing, and many more dressed as though for a night out. To each his own I suppose. Customers were few and far between at the beginning to my disappointment – I thought it was a sold-out game. However, I truly came to appreciate this early lull when it was like a madhouse later on.
It felt as though someone flicked a switch and a horde of people showed up at our station. I was running around for about two-and-a-half hours and game time was my savior. We were only serving one beer, Carling, but our kegs weren’t exactly behaving and with people ordering at least four pints at a time and only two pumps… well, it was a bit insane. We had pizza, crisps, and chocolate, but all they wanted was beer and we ran out of the tops for the cups.
One man spent five minutes impersonating my accent, which was flattering (I suppose), but a bit grating, though he did narrate the game a bit for us. I messed up a few orders but it worked out okay in the end, thankfully.
At the end of my shift, my shoes – and the entire station actually – were practically soaked in beer, and I imagine I didn’t smell too gorgeous. In any case, we were rewarded with the leftover food, which was a Godsend. We had to wait another hour for the money and stock to get checked and while we were waiting, I went to check out the field, which I hadn’t been able to see at all during my shift. I was really looking forward to seeing the game, but it just wasn’t possible. I saw some of the rugby players, I think, just hanging around, and was a bit shocked by all the garbage littering the seats. I don’t envy whoever had to clean that up.
Finally, we were free to go and as soon as I stepped outside, I realized I really need to buy an umbrella. Badly. I didn’t even bring my hat, which was a bad idea; a 40 minute walk back to my halls in freezing rain wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience. But at the same time, do I really need an umbrella? When I had one – ultimately a victim of an interesting night out – I hated carrying it around and it constantly upended in the vicious wind. My hat works pretty well, but after a while I just want to be warm.
As soon as I stepped into my room though, I was happy. I had just worked a six-hour shift, walked back in the freezing rain, met some amazing people, and witnessed (sort of) my first rugby game. And all that was there to await me was my nice warm bed. God I love Wales. Come on Six Nations, when I hope to be watching not working.
By Arzu Bokhari
Arzu is a journalism student at Cardiff University. Originally from New Jersey, she plans on completing her undergraduate degree in Wales.
Photograph: The Millennium Stadium, from the Arms Park © Terry Winter
