One year abroad is the equivalent of three years at home. This is usually what we say in my NGO, Project Access, when we’re encouraging students to apply for universities abroad. Looking back to my first year and considering how much my life and perception of myself have changed, I can only conclude this statement to be a hundred per cent true. I also just feel really fucking old.
When you are an international student, all the motions of moving out are heightened. Although it can be freeing to jump on that plane, leave life as you knew it to be and all the characters that featured in it, it’s without a doubt also terrifying – and really hard. I won’t sugarcoat it: this year, dear fresher, is going to be a challenge. At the end of my first year – even though I’d had an amazing time and loved going to Trinity – I almost dropped out because I found it all so overwhelming. It’s not easy, but it sure as hell is rewarding – and I’m all the better for staying.
Now that the end of my Undergrad is in sight, I’ve reflected a lot on my experiences since moving here. I’ve gathered some of these, along with other reflections on the international student experience (in collaboration with my international friends and colleagues in the Global Room), in this little list below. Perhaps you’ll find something interesting or unexpected. Perhaps, I hope, you’ll find confirmation and solace in the fact that you made the right choice in deciding to study abroad.
Suddenly You Become the Most Interesting Person in the World
It’s only natural that when you go from being just another (insert nationality) in (insert nation) to being an (insert nationality) abroad, you magically become ten times more interesting. I do apologise for the wordy sentence, but you’d better prepare yourself for wordiness of all sorts when you find yourself explaining what exactly it means to be (insert nationality).
Regardless, you’ll find that this singular, rather superficial, marker of identity suddenly becomes a very defining aspect of your personality. What’s more is that this marker becomes the most fascinating thing about you. Take a star out of the sky and place it in the ocean; it’ll obviously be quite easy to spot.
Is this allegory justified? Maybe not. But you’ll soon discover that people are genuinely interested in knowing more about you and where you’re from. Perchance this stems from the fact that it’s quite easy to talk about your home in those awkward, purgatorial small talks you’ll be having in the weeks to come.
Moreover, when you return home, the fact that you’re studying abroad becomes the most interesting thing about you. People will be eager to know what life is like at Trinity College Dublin, and if you’ve found the Connell to your Marianne – or whatever is equivalent.
You Accidentally Become the Glue of Friend Groups Back Home
It seems kind of strange to say that because you moved away you’re somehow bringing your friends closer, but just this summer I realised it was the case. Twice it happened that I’d asked different friend groups when the last time they met was, and both times they admitted that they hadn’t seen each other much, except for when I was back home.
Now, this isn’t supposed to be self-glaze – the truth is: I think it has little to do with me and more to do with the never-ending thirst for optimisation. The gravitational pull of your presence not only marks an excuse to see all of your friends at once, but also for all of your friends to see each other.
You could feel dejected that your friends see you as an event organiser, or you could revel in your own fabulousness and make the most of this diplomatic welcome. Much like Sid in Ice Age, you’ve become the “gooey, sticky… stuff” that holds the herd together.
You Become Oddly Proud and Defensive of Your Home Country. You Also Become a Hater of Your Home Country.
I never thought moving away from home would make me its number one fan. I also didn’t think it would make me such an avid hater.
Moving abroad has made me realise how great home is – but it’s also made me realise all the things that we could be doing better. I think all good criticism comes from a deep love and willingness to make the world better, so whenever I’m slagging off Denmark (or when I’m criticising Dublin at home), I only do it because I truly love both places and wish for them to be the best they can be.
All that to say: this is the kind of perspective studying abroad gives you. The distance allows you to look at things from a different angle. You’re strung out between two places; inhabiting one while still having your foot in the other. I think this allows you to look at your situation from a more nuanced standpoint. It also breaks down many of the ingrained assumptions you get from growing up in the same place your whole life.
Denmark can be such a bubble, and I think breaching that protective film at a young age has made me a more reflective and empathetic person. This immersion doesn’t come for free – you have to actively want to learn and participate in order to create these perspectives – but once you put in the effort, you’ll start seeing the world in a new light.
The World Becomes a Little Bit Smaller and Less Scary
Saying that “the world becomes smaller” sounds pretty negative – especially in a more-is-more world where larger is better. In this case, though, the world seeming small is meant entirely as a pro.
As I highlighted before, the international student experience is really hard: you’re on your own in a new country, having to fend for yourself and figure out how to be a college student. Where the world once seemed huge and intimidating, it now seems a little closer and tangible. You can be a part of all those places you’ve dreamt of. Once you’ve made that one big leap, everything else seems a little less intimidating.
