Livin’ la vida local: An essential guide for local students joining Durham University

As a local Durham resident, you’re likely about to step over the threshold that many would not conceive possible by becoming a student here at the university. 

As a girl from the pit village of Blackhall Colliery on the coast of East Durham, coming to Durham Uni was never really on my list of options. If your experience was anything like mine upon telling friends and family you were “joining the dark side” in becoming a student, have no fear. I am here to set your mind at rest with some swift steps to keep your local allegiance and newly acquired student status in perfect harmony with one another.

Don’t change how you speak

You’re probably going to be on the receiving end of funny looks sometimes, as if you’re speaking some unfathomable language, but not half as much as people insinuate. Either way, don’t let it stop you from keeping that local accent.

We all know the classic Durham stereotype and many people, especially locals I knew who’d graduated from Durham, will reinforce the idea that you’re going to keep coming across these figures. You might fear they’ll be side eyeing you in lectures as you’re nattering away in unintelligible babble, but worry not – I found there’s very few of them in reality.

Naturally, one must prepare for the classic Jimmy’s smoking area debacle of “I’m going to have to stop you, I can’t even understand a word you are saying!”, as they laugh and gesture to a friend at this mythical being before them, birthed in the foreign lands of a city in which they study.

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Though these moments are few and fleeting, do be prepared to correct the person who introduces you, genuinely awestruck, to their friend as the girl who “is from Durham and… goes to Durham Uni!”. This is all despite “northerners statistically being more stupid than southerners”, as if you’ve defeated the great odds in becoming a student at the city you’re literally from.

Unfortunately these quotes have actually been said to me. But, in the grand scheme of things, they’re insignificant, easy to ignore, and are infrequent examples. Durham, in my opinion, gets an unjust representation for these stereotypes, even though it’s only a few people with small-minded opinions. 

I’ve found many great friends from all over the UK throughout my time at uni, all with an amalgam of different accents that are (for the most part) entirely understandable. My accent itself is a weakened version of Pitmatic (not Geordie, Mackem, Poolie, or Smoggie), and I’ve found a certain enjoyment in casually sharing those odd dialectical sayings with friends who have no clue what they mean. 

You may even find that if you train your newly acquainted marras they will also engage in the more commonly used every day pit yacker vocabulary. For example, when “that lad has just throwed yous a proper hacky there like” (which would not be an unlikely occurrence to hear from yours truly in the queue for Jimmy’s).

Jimmy Allen’s and clubbing

And as if a genie has leapt from a lamp, I am obliged to discuss the wonder of Jimmy Allen’s to you, my blissfully unaware reader. Though you may be accustomed to day drinking in Durham or a night out on bank holidays, not many locals ever go into Jimmy’s (apart from my home friends that bound in with me during every out-of-term holiday).

Proceed with caution, and do not let people conveniently cut past you in the queue – because this is an unfortunate inevitability. Do call them out and stand your ground; don’t let the reputation of being a friendly northerner excuse queue pushing. Whether you’re calling them out for no other reason than the cathartic act of putting someone into their place (which just so happens to be the back of the queue), or not, make sure you don’t just fake a smile and accept it. 

While on the topic of nights out, the evening attire is an extreme contrast to what you may see on a weekend. However, I must urge you to wear your bouncy blowouts, full faces of makeup, heels and sparkly outfits to the clubs. I implore you to continue in this glamorous tradition, and if you look for a particularly sequinned brunette queuing up for the karaoke be sure to pop over and say hi.

Knowing when it is ‘crossing the line’

As a local, I’d imagine you are highly in tune with our strong mining heritage. Unfortunately, last year I saw a lot of anonymous confessions on Overheard and the like of students failing to understand the gravity of crossing a picket line. Last year, the university had some teaching strikes and I was quite taken aback with some of the reception from my fellow students. 

Living in the city that hosts the Durham Miner’s Gala (one of my favourite days of the year might I add), I find it incredibly disheartening that people can come to our city entirely unaware of our heritage and just what it means to cross a picket line. However worry not, if you hear something like this in the streets (or more likely anonymously on the internet), might I suggest correcting this person and swiftly pushing them in the direction of the closest DVD of Billy Elliot. 

Expect to become Google Maps 

You are the local, congratulations! You now must know the ins and outs of the north east in its entirety!

As someone as geographically inept as myself, I was stuck for landmarks when my friends asked me to take them on a tour of Durham in Freshers’ Week. I could confidently show them where H&M used to be (for which I still mourn), the route for DBM, the best places to get an ice cream, and other such valuable points. You may want to acquaint yourself a little more with the cultural side of our city. Though that story of swearing you saw a ghost in the cathedral as a child may be scintillating, it certainly lacks the historical flair your friends may be after. 

Now, it isn’t an article for locals if I don’t mention the holy grail of the north east for student drinkers: Newcastle. Our go-to city for a good day drink, bottomless brunch, Saturday night out, or anything alcohol related for that matter. Just be sure to have a few bars in mind for your posse before setting off, as I can guarantee the moment you step onto the platform of the station your friends will be expecting you to assume the position of tour guide.

Again, one may advise against any stories of the Centre for Life trips when you were at school or having your UCAS day at the Utilita – send them off to D&P and away you go. 

Finally, in the summer months it may be handy to point out the classic beaches that the southerners seem to yearn for. As someone who lives five minutes from the beach, I am more than happy to restrain myself from the urge to dive into the refreshingly frozen and choppy waters of our beloved coast. By all means, take them to Seaton Carew or Seaham and show them around. Just be sure to watch from a safe distance, towels in hand like a good friend as they plunge into those marvellous waves. 

The duality of a student/local hybrid – in conclusion 

You now possess the almost supernatural quality of a student/local hybrid, but there are certain conventions one must abide by. These include, but certainly are not limited to:

• Giving the cashier/server that “look” as you say your order as if to say: “Yeah I’m a student but don’t worry, I’m from here too” like an undercover agent.
• Bragging about the fact you can go home for tea if you don’t fancy the college meal that night (guilty).
• On that note, use “breakfast, dinner and tea” to irritate all those “breakfast, lunch and dinner” users because they’re in your city now.
• Reinforce that your friends must refer to your mother as your “Mam” because if she hears herself referred to as “Mum” by anyone the repercussions are not worth thinking about.
• Telling all your local friends that “this is where I go with my uni friends” and doing the exact same when with your uni friends.
• Unashamedly bringing up any story from your childhood that vaguely fits into an area you are passing.
• The obligation to tell the story of the “horse with no tongue” statue in Market Square to everyone you meet.
• Spotting your village banner in the Market Tavern, and then forcing your friends to sit on the table under it.
• Enjoying your favourite Durham clubs when entirely unpopulated out of term time (Fowlers and Jimmy’s will never see a week without me I fear).
• Becoming strangely protective and proud over the accent that you never actually thought anything of before coming to uni. 
• At least one trip to your local town/village to show your friends “the real Durham”, which they will most certainly love.
• Entirely ruining your current perception of Durham city centre. My imagined map has now truly been corrupted by lecture routes and the classic North Road slander (of which locals and students share a common disdain).

And so I sign this off as an incoming third year who has learned throughout her Durham experience that home is certainly where the heart is. And relocating from a little pit village on the outskirts of Durham all the way to its city centre has made me wildly proud of my heritage, despite my initial skepticism. 

Yours truly, 

A proud local student. 

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