Friendships are important to prevent you from feeling alone, especially for internationals. But international students in particular tend to move on after a while. Gone are the friendships, observes columnist Kirsty McHenry.
University has always offered the opportunity to venture beyond established social circles and form exciting, new connections. But, for those of us who arrived on campus knowing no one – as is typically the case for students from abroad – the promise of friendships yet to be made was more than just an added benefit; it was a source of reassurance. As anyone who has ever entered a lecture hall and found themselves lost among a sea of strangers will know, a friendly face can feel like a life craft in a storm.
While most relationships are tied to particular places and moments in time, this seems especially true of the friendships we make as (or with) international students. As we slowly build these bonds over the course of our studies, we may transform from awkward fish out of water into veritable social butterflies. The catch, however, is that many of the friendships we make as internationals are accompanied by a lingering awareness that one or other person will eventually move on. Consequently, when befriending an international, it can be helpful to remember that time is of the essence.
Intrinsic anchors
Unlike the communities we have back in our home countries, the friendships we make abroad lack the kind of intrinsic anchors (such as family or culture or even reliable accommodation) which consistently pull us back after we’ve moved away. In contrast, many international friendships are transitory in nature; destined to last only as long as the university studies that brought them into being. Forged during a liminal stage in life between the constancy of the place you came from and the possibility of whatever comes next, many of these friendships are accompanied by the quiet understanding that, once you leave, you can never really return.
In this phase of life, change occurs with such frequency that it can feel as if staying immersed in the moment is the only way to keep afloat. Unfortunately, however, the migrant experience is marked by a fundamental unpredictability, which means that even the people populating our lives cannot be counted on to remain consistent. Sometimes, we have no choice but to accept that the friends we have now will continue to grow and change, and we won’t necessarily be present for their next stage or get to witness the people they become.
Of course, coming to terms with the fragmentation of any friendship is hardly easy. Personally, the friendships I’ve found toughest to say goodbye to are those that were cut short before they ever really began - the people I let drift away before I was able to strengthen my grip. Through misplaced misgivings, puzzling passivity or simple obliviousness, I kept myself from discovering how deep those connections could have gone. I realise now that the time-sensitive nature of these friendships demands that we do not hesitate. The only way to know where a budding friendship might lead is to take the opportunity to find out before it’s too late and the ship has sailed.
Impermanence
As I reflect on my own time at university, I’ve come to appreciate how the impermanence of many of the friendships I made there has taught me to better recognise and act on potential connections as I experience them. Whatever the circumstance, we’ve got to cherish the people around us – preferably before their names risk joining the list of faintly remembered Christmas card-addressees. This way, when the time does come for our friends to move on, we can take comfort in knowing that we held onto them as hard as we could while we had the chance.