I’m from Boston but I feel like a foreigner in Cambridge

“Oh you’re from Boston!” says an observant classmate.

“Yeah, I am!” I reply smiling cheek-to-cheek at the mention of my hometown.

“So where are good places to eat around here?”

My smile fades and my head begins to hurt. To their surprise, I have no other recommendations than Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts. For years, Harvard Square has been nothing more than a stop on the Red Line. To be honest, the Red Line was always that mode of transportation people tried to avoid (unless they lived in that magical place called Dorchester and had to take some chances).

Yours truly at my second home, Annenberg

So a Bostonian in Cambridge is more like a Michigander or Portlander than you’d expect. It’s an entirely new way of life here in the 02138, where you can do things like safely cross the street, reliably take the MBTA, and sleep through the night without trap music blasting out of pimped-out rides. Let me explain to you, my confused classmate, just exactly what I mean.

You get 40 seconds to cross a street in Cambridge

Combatting crosswalk anxiety across Holyoke Street

Where I come from, you get 14 seconds MAX to cross a road: if you make it, great! If you don’t, prepare to get honked at until you’re on the sidewalk. But in Cambridge, there’s no need to speed-walk those white lines. There’s no need for Bostonian crosswalk anxiety, especially when you can dance a full chorus of Silento’s Watch Me in the middle of Mass Ave and still not get run over.

A view of the 6(17) off the Mass Ave Bridge

You can take those buses your friends told you to avoid

I was stared down for a good two minutes by a dude in a white tee, True Religions, and a gold chain, talking on a flip phone. Why? Because he was on the 66 and I was waiting for a bus that shares a stop with it. That’s right. The same 66 you all love to take to (Urban Brookline) Brighton Music Hall and think nothing about. I told a fellow freshman not to take the 66 and they asked, “Why the hell not?” I’m not dealing well with the culture shock.

Green straws replace orange straws in Cambridge

A Harvard library that doubles as a coffee shop

I grew up in a place where summer was spent sipping Coolattas and cannonballing into public pools. Your teachers walked around with the same Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup you hid in your bag because food wasn’t allowed in school. But in Cambridge, your local Starbucks baristas know more about your personality than you do by the way you order your Americano. Why? Because it’s the green mermaid that’s next to CVS, not those double Ds.

Pimped-out Honda Civics don’t keep you awake at 2am in Cambridge

While the streets of Cambridge may not be dead silent at night, there is certainly a difference in the type of noise you do hear. And let me tell you, it’s not nearly as turnt as Boston’s. But I gotta admit: as much as I love Fetty Wap and music so loud you can only hear the bass, I’m loving this new thing called “sleep”.

Rapid Transit is reliable in Cambridge

Entrance to the Dunkin Donuts nearest to The Yard

Let’s play a game of “Where does this happen?”: “Experiencing delays due to a disabled train.” That’s easy! Any Orange Line station. All right, now how about “Buses replacing Red Line Service?” I’ll give you a hint: nowhere in the 02138. Never will you worry about spending half an hour on a shuttle between Harvard and Kendall because this isn’t Dorchester or Quincy. And no longer do I have to worry about my train catching fire while in Cambridge because that only happens at South Station.

You can smell the sewers in Cambridge

Don’t act like you’ve never been hit out of nowhere by a wicked odor while walking down Mass Ave. No, it wasn’t you, and no, it wasn’t a tourist. It was The City of Cambridge’s way of creating an environment all of its own, where the smell of Panera Bread and excrement live in perfect harmony. I’ll never get over it.

A photo of bae taken at the final destination of your 66 bus, Dudley Square