During the first week of my exchange semester at the University of Hertfordshire in the UK, everything went wrong.
I’d bought induction pots and pans for my dorm’s non-induction stovetop. My UK SIM card wasn’t working in my phone. My UK bank had sent my new debit card to a branch that had permanently closed two months ago. The so-called “fitted” sheets provided by the university did not, in fact, fit my mattress. It felt like every little thing that could go wrong did. On top of that, I was living with ten strangers in my dorm house and four days before the semester started, I still didn’t know what classes I was enrolled in.
I was overwhelmed. Even as I registered for classes at Hertfordshire, I was thinking about booking a plane back to Canada. As I left the registration line, I really thought that was it. I thought I had made up my mind to give up and go back to Canada – that week.
I hadn’t eaten in a few hours, so being a responsible adult-in-training, I bought a sausage roll, a true English delicacy consisting of a sausage within a pastry. I sat in the middle of campus and began to miserably munch away at said sausage roll. There was nothing I wanted more than to call my mum, but it was 2AM in Canada: she’d be asleep. So were all my friends. There was something both liberating and lonely living eight hours ahead of everyone you loved.
So instead I messaged Eureka, a fellow VIU classmate also on exchange at Hertfordshire. Because of that, I stayed in the UK. I truly believe if I had not messaged Eureka in that moment, I would have flown back to Canada that week. But she said the exact right things to make me stay, and I’m so glad I did.
A few days later, Eureka and I took a 27 minute train ride into London. As we stood in Trafalgar Square outside the National Portrait Gallery and oohed and aahed at the views of Big Ben off in the distance, I could not believe how close I lived to such an amazing place. That night, as I climbed in my bed – which I had somehow convinced my sheets to fit on – I was in awe that I could go to London in the day, and sleep in my own bed the very same night. That was an adventure worth having.
The first few days on a semester abroad, you are literally the only person in the country who cares if you live or die. However, in a strange way, it builds confidence. I look back on those first few days (or I’ll admit: weeks) as growing pains. There are a million tiny difficult adjustments when living in a different country, especially in the beginning. You don’t think about these hard moments during your pre-departure fantasies of overdosing in international culture, but it is so worth toughing them out. Today, I wouldn’t trade my exchange experience for anything, but I would gently advise any future international students to give themselves a lot of grace in those first few weeks. It can take a while for it to be worth it, but it will be.
Isabella Ranallo