Before I left on this crazy adventure to study abroad, everyone told me how much fun I was going to have, how this experience would change my life, and how I was going to meet so many people. When I started to feel sad and lonely, it only got worse because I felt guilty. I felt like I wasn’t living the experience I was supposed to. This is the part of studying abroad that people don’t really talk about. No one tells you that you will feel lonely, you will have down days, you will want to pack up and go home.
I first had these feelings about two weeks into my exchange. I hadn’t spoken to my parents or friends in a few days and I was shut into my apartment due to a cold. This was when I started to feel really isolated. No one had moved into my apartment so far, and I had only seen a couple people in the hall in passing. On top of all this, I was having negative thoughts about my relationship that had ended the day I left for Europe. I wanted to pack up and go home; the sadness was so intense. The weather in Lucerne is very similar to the Fraser Valley, and on gloomy days it is very easy to not want to leave the house — then I could just stay inside by myself, and hopefully not get any sad thoughts.
Orientation week came around at the perfect time. I started meeting so many intelligent and motivated young adults and everyone I met seemed to be very outgoing. While around big groups I tend to be more quiet and observe for the first little while, but I made the decision right there, that if I was asked to do anything, by anyone, I would do it. It was comfortable to stay in my room alone, cook myself dinner, and watch Netflix, but I didn’t come all this way to feel comfortable. I came here to experience new things and get to know new people from literally all over the world. One comment an orientation week leader made was that it’s nice to keep in touch with your friends back home, but if you are always on your phone and never open to your new surroundings, you won’t get the full experience you came here for.
When I got to know my fellow exchange students, I was surprised by how encouraging total strangers could be. Everyone wanted to go out and experience new things, you never had to do anything alone if you didn’t want to. For example, I told a couple of girls I was having a tough week and just wanted to go out. They met me at the train station that evening, and we had the most expensive Coronas any of us had ever bought (8 CHF each — over $10 Canadian). We got to talk, got to know each other, and got to be distracted for a little while.
I have done so much in the past week and a half, continuously pushing my comfort levels to the point where I thought I was going to burst. I could not be more proud of myself for facing these challenges head on and overcoming them. I hiked up a mountain, I joined a foreign-language social volleyball team, I presented to a class of my peers in a language I did not know one word of five days prior.
I want to be real about my experience here and it’s not all funny stories and gorgeous landscapes with no Instagram filter required. Some days I just want to wake up, meet a girl friend at Old Hand, and know exactly what I am ordering in a language I fully understand. But then I remember that’s comfortable and if nothing else, I can be uncomfortable for six months of my life. Right now I am trying to enjoy mystery food and unfamiliar company. It’s not easy, but I am learning.
I am meeting people who are a bit younger than me, but their motivation is so inspiring. Their stories and life experiences are so different from mine, but yet the same. I realized that I am exactly where I need to be at this point in my life. I didn’t realize how complaisant I was becoming in my day-to-day back home, how I was just settling and not really striving. I often wonder what it will be like when I get back home. Will my ex-boyfriend have a new girlfriend? Will it be weird? Will my friends have made new friends? Will my mom want me to move out because she likes having the house to herself? Will my friends feel sorry for my broken relationship and look at me differently? Will I even want to go home? These are things I simply cannot control, and in this moment I have to learn that they don’t matter. What matters right now is making this experience the best I can — this is my time to paint Switzerland a nice, sparkly, hot pink hue in true Jennifer style.
To end on a funny-ish note, I took a German class which I thought was for beginners, and turned out to be more of a refresher for people who already know German. So now I can count to 100, list the days of the week, tell the time, identify certain items in the grocery store, and say please and thank you in German.
Auf Wiedersehen!
