Away from home, often for months at a time. The longer one dwells on it, more daunting the prospect. The leap of faith just has to be taken, an unseeing step forward into an uncertain darkness of the future.
Studying abroad means being away from family and the safe shelter of the nest, for both international students and citizens going interstate. At home, your father might have taken on the irksome job of managing administrative letters and monetary matters, your mother might have tended to the shopping and cooking, your siblings might have organized weekend picnics and family outings—it doesn’t matter, now that you are on your own. No longer is there the familiar security of family to soften life’s bruises with their reliable company, shared resources (notably financial) and heartfelt sympathy. This security is quite rare, although not impossible to find among friends. You can never be so recklessly certain of a friend’s affection especially after a heated argument or in an environment of mutual competition for grades, internships or jobs.
Thus, this necessitates some time and energy, both physical and emotional, to be devoted to building a support network—a family away from home. In addition, the responsibility of taking care of yourself falls to…well, you. While we have had some training in taking care of ourselves, its implications are felt even more keenly when living abroad by oneself.
Bank-account statements? Insurance? Meals? Not the occasional meal out with friends but every single breakfast, lunch and dinner. It is hard to see anyone else around whom you can (perhaps after a particularly trying or disappointing day at university) delegate/plead/beg into doing them for you. Moreover, you have to consider the fact that you want friends around instead of frightening everyone away with your neediness. You need to settle things like the grown-up that you are.
Yet this heavy burden of responsibilities on your lonesome shoulders also brings with it fresh breaths of freedom. Living away from family also means no one is waiting for you to be back at dinnertime, to interrogate you about your day or ask for an account of your schedule. You can change your mind, at any time, without worrying about clashing family commitments. The heady carefree feeling of a chilly night out with all novelty of unearthly morning hours is yours to savour. Daylight hours are yours to plan and spend as you wish—a day out in the city or by the sea? Catching up on homework or sleep? Shopping sprees or long chats with a friend? You need to be accountable only to yourself. The inevitable hours of solitude when you find yourself alone after a friend bails on you can also be a blessing in disguise—without the incessant voices at home, however well-intentioned, you can finally hear your true inner voice (and be sure of it) and have the time to follow where your inner motivations lead while discovering different aspects of your personality.
For me, returning home for the summer holidays was akin to chancing upon a forgotten, old novel. It was the same narrative—familiar personalities of family, same jokes and quarrels, almost similar landscape of roads and buildings of the city, but a different reader. One will start to draw parallels—the public transport, architecture, food, living with friends versus family. Upon returning home, the initial friction of re-adjustment—living in close quarters with people whom you are accountable to and who place certain unspoken and oftentimes unwelcome expectations on you—might come unexpected. It is almost like being caged again but the boundaries more keenly felt after one has known flight. The weary obligation of blood ties is nevertheless accompanied by the reward of domestic bliss and greater emotional security (and maybe, the hopes in anticipation of the upcoming university semester).
So how can one best prepare for this flight of freedom?
- Find out as much as possible, but not to the point of information overload.
- Be willing to make friends, by being a friend to others.
- Start learning to clean (a little) and cook (a lot).
More importantly, know that it is alright to be confused or homesick. It is acceptable to have days when you want to lie in bed and hide from the world. Everyone has their own narrative, their own story to tell. However in the end, you will need to get out there to live, experience and create your own narrative.
As a Singaporean coming to Australia, I take particular joy in noting differences between the two countries. One key point of comparison is the supermarket—everyone has to buy their own groceries Down Under. Australia is proud of her produce—her dairy bears the stamp of a home-grown company. The luscious fruits in season—peaches and grapes in summer, kiwi and navel oranges in winter—are fresh from her land. Singapore however does not have the luxury of acres of fertile land or indeed, much land at all—most fruits and dairy are imported.
Cashiers in Australia smilingly greet you with “How are you?” at the checkout, even if it might be out of routine rather than genuine concern. On the contrary, those in Singapore single-mindedly focus on scanning barcodes as efficiently as they can. That is possibly the reason shoppers in Australia tend to be generously happy and polite—the custom is to carefully empty the contents of one’s basket or trolley onto the conveyor belt thereby giving the cashier a helping hand. In comparison, shoppers in Singapore are usually more time-pressed, worried about adding up dollars and cents of their purchases and placing the entire shopping basket for the cashier to empty, as if fearful that the little happiness they have will be lost if they squander it on a smile for a stranger.
