I'm an International Student?
On my second day in Germany, I posted a photo on Instagram
of some trees, noting how they were different than the ones in the US. One of
my former coworkers, an international student herself, commented that she had
noticed the same thing when she came to the US, and then welcomed me to life as
an international student.
This made me pause. I’m
an international student? I thought, I
don’t feel any different.
While at language school in Cologne, I was able to let this
go. Given that I was surrounded by [mostly] Americans day in and day out, my
status as an international student went largely ignored. This changed
immediately once I arrived in Hamburg and started attending university.
It’s amazing what a language barrier can do to you and your
personality. At home, I was self-assured. I didn’t worry about people talking
to me, and I didn’t worry about having to talk to them. Asking for help wasn’t
a chore, and getting to know others wasn’t a source of anxiety. Now that I’m
the international student, though? Even going to class is difficult. The same
series of thoughts plagues me every day:
Is this outfit weird?
Will I stand out?
Do I look like I’m
completely lost in this building? I totally do. Who am I kidding, I totally am
lost.
Can I sit here? Am I
taking someone’s seat? Will they talk to me about it?
Am I eating weird?
I’m drinking water too
loudly, aren’t I.
Why is that person
looking at me? THEY KNOW. Oh god, oh god.
Over and over and over again. These questions are dumb. I
know they’re dumb. But this, instead of my studies, is what I’m thinking about
every day. It’s exhausting! That, on top of listening to scientific lectures in
German for a few hours, just makes me want to go home, chill, and feel like I’m
not screwing something up for a little while.
As it should, this experience has caused me to look back at
the way I previously looked at international students at Ohio State. I always
wondered why they would only ever hang out with other international students
from their own countries and not try to speak English outside of class. I never
understood their lack of desire to engage with the new culture around them, but
instead to keep to themselves. I mean, I knew I was friendly. Had anyone asked,
I would’ve definitely shown them around or helped them hone their language
skills. I was ready to engage with them, why didn’t they just reach out?
That said, I totally get it now. They don’t reach out (I
don’t reach out) because it’s terrifying. They speak their native language
after classes (so do I) because it’s just too exhausting to continue in the
second language. They hang out with people from their own country (like I do) because
those people understand what’s going on and are having the same experience. I’d imagine
they want to get to know the new culture (likewise), but a person only has so
much energy on a given day. How can I afford to spend that energy on reaching
out when I’ve still got to go to the gym and do my homework?
It’s not just the language barrier that’s difficult, either.
The cultural differences confront you every day as well. For example: People
will stare at you here. It’s not frowned upon like it is in the US, and it
happens every day. After every lecture, students applaud by knocking on the
desks, and it drives me insane. Perhaps the most jarring thing for me right now
is that, in Germany, Halloween and Thanksgiving don’t really exist. I’m not
used to the lack of pumpkins (which they translate as Halloweenkürbis, or “Halloween-squash”), the dearth of Halloween
candy, and the complete absence of pumpkin and sweet potato pies. In fact, the
Germans are already gearing up for Christmas. It feels like fall isn’t really
happening because the things that scream “autumn” to me don’t exist here to
nearly the same extent that they do back home.
I also realized, however, how incredibly nice it can be to
have just one person—seriously, just one—reach out to talk to you. To be able
to be acknowledged by just a single other human being feels monumental. For a
second, while you’re being heard, you feel like maybe you aren’t as different
as you thought. Maybe you do have a voice. Maybe, just maybe, other people care
about hearing what you have to say.
Needless to say, my perspective has completely changed and,
as a result, I have already reached out to the people that help ESL students
assimilate to life at OSU so that I can volunteer with them when I get back. This
is something that I should’ve been doing as an RA, but I couldn’t possibly have
understood what it was like to be an international student without having been
one myself. It is absolutely one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do,
but I hope I can channel it into making life a little better for the next
struggling international student.
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