It was the last week of September, and my introduction to linguistics class had just ended. I put my notebook and laptop into my bag, getting ready to muster the energy to head to another class. There was nothing unusual about the day, in fact the lesson itself had been interesting enough, and I began to walk out of the classroom in the kind of stupor so often associated with Monday mornings. I didn’t notice the girl coming up from the back of the classroom to talk to me until she stood right beside me, her smile and bob of brown hair catching my eye. She turned to me without so much an introduction and said she had been meaning to talk to me. This made me pause. After online classes and little to no face-to-face interaction, I was a little shocked at being so joyfully addressed by a stranger, someone who I had not so much as said a word to. I asked her name, and she asked mine. She told me she was an international student from Japan. I asked her how she liked KU. Then, within five minutes of meeting each other, she asked me if I wanted to hang out with her on the following Saturday.
I was faced with a sudden and peculiar dilemma. I was impressed by her openness and her fearlessness in approaching me for friendship, and her cheerfulness made me feel both welcome and intrigued as to know who she was. For her bravery alone, I could agree to hang out with her. However, I was also overcome with shyness and anxiety—how could I spend a Saturday with someone who I knew nothing about, someone whose name I didn’t even know just minutes earlier? My mind raced back and forth and then it struck me that one awkward social interaction, however painful and bizarre, means nothing in the grand scheme of life. I was going to take a chance; I was going to meet someone new who I would never have the chance to meet again, and so with reckless abandon I agreed to hang out with her.
I am so glad that I did. That one day turned into weeks, and before I knew it, I found myself spending nearly every Tuesday and Thursday with her. She was only in Kansas for one semester, and I wanted to make it count.
My friendship with her was not always easy. The language barrier between us was apparent. We would often go grocery shopping together, scouring the shelves of Walmart for her favorite instant ramen, or looking up and down the aisles for the odd assortment of items that made up her weekly shopping list (umbrellas, bottle openers, lemon cookies, sweaters, winter boots, tissues and pizza-flavored Pringles). There were times in which she wouldn’t know the English translation for her grocery list (which was written in Japanese in the notes section of her phone) and we would play a linguistic guessing game, which usually ended up with her searching for an image in Google (“Aha, laundry detergent! I think that’s in this aisle…”).
I saw more of Lawrence in the three months I spent with her than I had in my entire freshman year. From trying every single Boba tea spot in the city (of which Bubble Box was her favorite, followed by Ding Tea and HiTea!) to just about every restaurant on Mass. Street, we were constantly exploring and discovering what Lawrence had to offer. While it was fun to go window shopping on rainy days and walk around campus in the autumn sun, my favorite memories are the conversations we had. Spending time with her taught me how to be a better listener. I couldn’t rush through my words or mumble my way out of conversations, and I had to really consider the best way to respond in answering her questions. There were many times in which major points got lost in translation, but we would always work together to try and reach a common understanding. A friendship with her required me to be fully present in the moment.
When I first met her, I could have never predicted the sadness I would feel upon her departure from the United States. When December came, I tried to spend as much time with her knowing that she would be gone by the end of the month. After having a person in my life so consistently, and after dedicating multiple days of each week to hanging out, and grocery shopping, and getting Boba and ice cream, and talking about music and movies and weekend plans, I suddenly couldn’t imagine life without her. We decided that we would keep in touch despite the distance and time zone, and it constantly amazes me that I have a friend 6,000 miles away.
My friendship with her taught me the importance of taking chances, regardless of how scared or uncomfortable I felt, because such amazing things can often be found the moment we step outside of our comfort zones and really look at the world around us. I am so grateful that I had the chance to get to know her, and she has inspired me to look for friends wherever I go. The next time you are uncertain of speaking up or reaching out, go for it. The risk of embarrassment or awkwardness is infinitely small in comparison to the beauty and joy of friendship.