At times, life as an international student from Bangladesh makes me feel like I live in a 90s sitcom. You know, the classic plot where the main character leaves for a fresh start, only to end up sharing a house with four strangers and wondering if it was all worth it.
My room looks like a half-opened suitcase that exploded and my diet consists of cheap canned foods that taste like cardboard. Sleep? Well, I am lucky if I can squeeze in a solid four hours between classes, assignments, work and a (non-existent) social life. But don’t get me wrong, I am loving my newfound freedom and independence, even though there are days when I would trade it all for a plate of my mom’s delicious beef curry and a clutter-free desk.
When I first landed in Canada, I packed more fiction novels than actual clothes and had a mind full of dreams. Leaving home was scary but it felt like a chance to start over and become who I want to be. Little did I know that a routine full of lectures, work shifts and excruciatingly long study sessions would become my new normal. Even so, I did not realize that this would all become strangely comforting.
Sure, there are moments when I miss my family so much that I want to spend days cocooned in bed. However, my motivation soon kicks in. I realize that I am on my own here and I have to push myself to make things happen. It’s like having a secret stash of determination that I never knew existed.
Canada was hyped up by everyone I knew and yet nobody warned me about the temperamental weather. I come from a tropical country and let me tell you, Halifax summers put our heat waves to shame. The winter? It’s like stepping into a frozen fairy tale, except you have to live in it.
Speaking of surprises, making friends turned out to be easier than I thought. I was convinced that I would be the lonely kid in the corner for the entirety of my degree but somehow, I have ended up with this awesome bunch of friends spending days exploring Nova Scotia.
Although, the one thing I miss most is the food. Back home, I was all about fast food. Now, I find myself craving my mom’s cooking like crazy. Suddenly, a plate of biryani or chicken curry became my holy grail. I even surprised myself by attempting to recreate those dishes. I am getting better, one salty curry at a time.
So there you have it, my rollercoaster journey to Halifax. From the initial “What have I gotten myself into” moment until I found my groove in my new home, it’s been a wild ride.