It’s only my second week in Gainesville, and already, everyday experiences are highlighting just how different life here is from home.
A few friends and I decided to drive to Miami Jan. 16 for a free Calvin Harris concert in South Beach, because nothing says good decision-making like a free concert and a six-hour drive. Our plans began to crack when the queue for the concert stretched so far it was hard to tell where it even began.
In Ireland, long queues usually signal poor organization or limited access and are avoided. In the U.S., they seem almost embraced. Americans will queue for hours without complaint, whether it’s for a viral food spot or a free concert. We arrived much earlier to South Beach than others and still stood in line for nearly four hours, packed tightly together with thousands of people.
As the crowd grew, the lack of structure became increasingly uncomfortable. There was a visible police presence, but little actual crowd management. No clear stewarding, no flow — just people pressed into one another on an open beach. When the security gates finally opened, the crowd surged from every direction.
Progress slowed to a crawl as everyone was funnelled through metal detectors, which felt slightly unsettling. Going through a metal detector at a concert is completely normal in the U.S., but to me, it was a reminder of something I had never had to think about before.
In Ireland, firearms are illegal, and public events rarely require visible security beyond basic crowd control. Here, the metal detectors felt like a quiet acknowledgment that violence is not unthinkable, even at a free music event.
This fear became very real when someone in the crowd shouted they had a gun and would use it if people did not move. I didn’t believe him, but belief felt irrelevant. The fact that it was even plausible to cause panic was enough. My friends and I left the queue and watched the concert from the beach instead.
What shocked me most came later. When we returned after getting refreshments, the barriers surrounding the concert had been knocked over and security had disappeared entirely. The metal detectors were switched off, and we walked straight back in. This happened in a state that recorded 16 mass shootings in 2025 and 32 in 2024.
Despite all of this, the concert itself was great. That contradiction stayed with me as moments of genuine enjoyment layered over a constant sense of unease. It made me realize how accustomed Americans have become to navigating public life alongside visible security and underlying risk.
Even the drive back to Gainesville reinforced the difference between here and back home. Florida’s size is hard to comprehend coming from Ireland, which is roughly half the size of the state.
On the way back, we stopped at Cape Canaveral and watched a SpaceX Starlink launch, an experience unlike anything I had seen before. Ending the weekend by watching a rocket launch into space felt surreal — and oddly fitting — after a trip that constantly highlighted how different life in the U.S. can feel from home.
Nights out in Gainesville compared to Ireland
My experience in Miami felt very different from nightlife in both Gainesville and Ireland. The most obvious difference between the U.S. and back home is the drinking age.
In Ireland, you can legally drink at 18, and alcohol is integrated into everyday social life in a more relaxed way. Because of this, many students arrive at college already accustomed to the responsibilities accompanied with drinking.
In the U.S., the legal drinking age of 21 can feel restrictive, particularly for international students who are legally considered adults in every other sense. While I was lucky enough to turn 21 over the summer and avoided this particular frustration, many international students experience a sense of shock and limitation when navigating American social culture, where so many events are age restricted.
So far, most of my nights out in Gainesville have been at MacDinton’s, where drinks usually cost between $2 and $5. This alone still feels unreal coming from Dublin, where a basic drink can easily cost anywhere from $10 to $17.
One thing I’m still adjusting to is the lack of dancing. There is something slightly uncanny about watching a room full of people stand almost completely still while party anthems play at full volume.
Cover charges are another difference. Many popular bars in Gainesville charge to get in, which is something that only really happens at a small number of nightclubs in Dublin. With that said, paying a cover feels slightly easier to justify when the drinks themselves are so cheap.
I’ve also realized casual “pints” are not really a thing here. Back at Trinity, we have a student bar called the Pav, where it is completely normal to stop in between lectures or after class for a drink or two before heading home.
In Gainesville, alcohol seems more closely tied to going out and partying, rather than just sitting and talking. This surprised me, especially given the reputation Irish people tend to have when it comes to drinking.
Frat parties have been another completely new concept for me. I only caught the end of one, but I was still amazed by the level of organization. Groups of boys hosting a house party with free alcohol and a full DJ setup felt extremely American. Beyond that, the experience was not all that different from the house parties back home, which was oddly reassuring.
Overall, Gainesville is different from home in ways I didn't expect, but those differences have made my experience more interesting and helped me better understand American college culture.
Contact Evelyn at eocarroll@alligator.org. Follow her on X @evelynocarroll.
Evelyn O’Carroll is a junior Political Science and Social Policy student from Trinity College Dublin, currently on international exchange for this semester. She writes a column documenting her experiences of studying abroad at the University of Florida.
