Well, I am still on Day 1. I promise I will write about something else soon, but Day 1 in America was so jam packed of events that I could never forget that day in my life. (Read Part 1 and Part 2 of my journey as I landed in Greenville and came to Clemson, SC)
After getting “Home” from the airport, my next task was to find a place for me and my two other roommates. I couldn’t stay at Nilay’s place because he was already hosting 2 other students.
So later that afternoon, I stumbled into Mr. Barefoot’s apartment complex office, hoping to secure a place to live. Jetlagged and disoriented, I arrived closer to 5 pm, feeling like a zombie in need of caffeine. When I met Mr. Barefoot, his Southern drawl was thicker than molasses on a hot summer day. Attempting to understand him was like decoding a foreign language.
“Y’all looking for a place to roost, huh?” Mr. Barefoot drawled, a grin stretching across his weathered face.
“Uh, yes, I’m here to rent a flat,” I replied.
He squinted at me, his eyebrows furrowing. “Flat, you say. Well, come on in, son!”
Navigating through his delightful southern twang, I tried my best to follow. “I’m interested in a two-bedroom, we are going to share”, I attempted, unsure if I was making sense.
“A two bedroom, bless your heart! Got one right over yonder, but ya gotta holler if ya need any fixin’s. Ain’t no harm in askin’,” he chuckled.
I nodded, pretending I understood every word. I did not.
After a few rounds of “y’all’s” and “fixin’s, Mr. Barefoot led me through the rental agreement, he mentioned, “Now, son, we’ll need $900 for your first month’s rent and a month’s rent as deposit.”
“Wait, $900 for rent?” I stammered, my jet-lagged brain kicking into overdrive. “But I thought the rent was $450?” Mr. Barefoot chuckled, his laughter rolling like a deep southern breeze. “No, son, that’s the deposit, not the rent itself.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, feeling relieved momentarily before confusion set in. “So, I need to pay $900 plus another $450 for rent?” “No, no,” he assured me, “It’s $900 for the first month’s rent and $450 as the deposit.”
Scratching my head, I tried to make sense of the math. “But why is the first month’s rent double the regular rent?” He leaned forward, a twinkle in his eye. “Son, that’s just how we do it down here. Gotta make sure you’re committed to stayin’, you know?”
Panic started to bubble within me. “I understand, Mr. Barefoot, but I’m not sure I have that much cash right now…” In my jetlagged daze, the thought of paying twice the rent as the initial payment seemed as confusing as a chicken trying to crow. Eventually, through Mr. Barefoot’s patient explanations and my bewildered nods, I managed to sort it out. It was $900 total. Phew!
With deposit surprise, I was already into red/deficit. And now, I didn’t have enough money to pay my first semester fees! Ouch!
(Read my prior article to understand my penniless pickle 😊 as I arrived in Clemson)
As I tried to wrap my head around the rental details, Mr. Barefoot, with his ever-present smile, leaned in and asked, “Say, ya need a free couch?”
“A what?” I replied, completely baffled.
“A couch, son, ya know, that thing you sit on,” he explained patiently, gesturing with his hands.
“Ohhh!” I exclaimed with sudden understanding. “You mean a sofa set!”
He raised an eyebrow, looking at me with a mix of surprise and bemusement. With me not understanding what he was saying earlier, confusing the simple math on rent, and now not understanding what a couch is, he teased, with a hint of jest in his voice “you here for your masters, right?”
Feeling slightly embarrassed by my misunderstanding, I chuckled nervously. “Yes, I’m here for my master’s program” Mr. Barefoot flashed a mischievous grin and shook his head. “Good luck, son!” he exclaimed, as if my confusion about the term ‘couch’ was a telltale sign of my academic pursuits.
In that moment, I couldn’t help but feel a bit disheartened, thinking I might have missed something crucial in our conversation due to my confusion over a simple piece of furniture. Later, I realized it was all in good humor, but in that instant, I couldn’t help but laugh at my own expense. Southern wit and charm, I quickly learned, often come with a sprinkle of good-natured teasing!
It was a hilarious introduction to Clemson living, where even everyday conversations became a comical adventure in Southern speech!

Nonetheless, at least now, I had my own place to crash! Well done, Mandar.
But is that it? Will everything be OK now’s that I got my own place? Continue reading to find out more.
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