By Chiara Shuman, Fourth year, Liberal Arts with Study Abroad
Nobody tells you that the hardest part of study abroad is the morning of day three. The adrenaline of stepping foot on the tarmac has worn off, and day two was all calls from home and a fun new café down the street. But day three is slower, and for the first time you stop to notice the unknown city that surrounds you, where not one yet knows your name.
Before I moved to Melbourne, everything I knew about Australia I’d learned from Bondi Rescue. “Down under” was hot, beachy and brimming with boomerangs. Quickly I realised that this was a city of grid systems, strong coffee and four seasons in one afternoon. I wore the wrong jacket, got on the wrong tram, and made my way down to the city in hopes of finding a pan to cook my first meal with.
K-mart was where maps took me, as I stood before an Aussie riptide of kitchen supplies and outback themed blankets. I left with a lamp, a poster and even a pan or two, to help distract from the nerves. Retail therapy soothes – take my advice on this one.
And after those first few awkward days pass, you sit in the common room, join a group chat, or go up to someone on the street. I made my first friend in the reception of my building, when a jetlag fuelled delusion convinced me to invite her to a club that evening. We got ready, discovered supermarkets in Australia only sell ‘goon’, and took our boxed wine to the roof, where we mingled with all the new faces.
Those people turned out to be the very best part of my time abroad.
Then, there’s the academics, which I promise, are important too. A new University is confusing at the best of times, and although still an English-speaking education, Melbourne came with its own challenges. Assessments were small but often, and collaborative group work was at the very core of how they teach. We are undoubtedly lucky at Bristol to have access to the resources we do, but what I learnt quickly wasthat there is a plethora of scholars and voices that are yet to be a part of the conversations we encounter at home.
Modules on Indigenous studies, Australian politics and Native traditions enriched my learning beyond belief. If have you have the opportunity to take studies in fields specific to your host country, I strongly encourage you do so. What a fantastic way to get to know the ground your feet are stood on and understand its history.
Something you cannot get from a textbook, however, is a ready-made life. You have to build one; starting with a flat, a few friends, a new coffee order and a pub with a good student discount. Maybe even get a job if you have the time, meet some locals and get to know the city from the people who make it.
It most definitely isn’t all smooth sailing, and if you think you’re going to be adopted by a gaggle of locals as soon as week one, I’m sorry to disappoint. The reality is you’ll be wading through crowds of international students, and for most, the time difference is brutal. A parent or friend isn’t awake to call, and suddenly you’re faced with the hard reality that you’re doing this on your own.
Disclaimer: you’re not.
There are thousands of students around the world in the very same position as you, standing at the beginning of an incredibly daunting year, but one that - as the clichés all tell you – will change your life.
A wonderful thing about moving, is that it puts the rest of the world within reach. I had the chance to travel to over seven countries during my year away, including New Zealand, Fiji, and Vietnam, each cementing themselves as some of the best weeks of my life. It doesn’t have to be complicated: pick a trip, book early, and say yes when someone suggests somewhere you’ve never considered.
I write this on the other end of where you might be now. With a suitcase that was 15kg overweight and a thousand pictures of wonderful people and places. I can say with certainty, that this time will teach you a strength you don’t know you have and the confidence to carry yourself through the world. Apologies if that made you squirm, but it’s true!
Don’t worry about feeling lost, or getting lost either, if you catch the wrong tram enough times, you’ll soon be the one giving directions.
Featured Image: Whitehaven Beach, East Coast of Australia | Epigram / Chiara Shuman
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