By Lily Stickley
I spent six months studying abroad last year in Auckland, New Zealand. From July to December, I was the furthest away from home I have ever been in my entire life. I left the country for the first time, going approximately 8,300 miles away. I knew I wanted to study in New Zealand before even enrolling at K.
I have been asked on multiple occasions to attempt to describe my study abroad experience in one word. Try as I might, there is not one singular word that I am able to use to describe my experience.
The first two months could be described as stressful, disgraceful or even deplorable. The third month I would describe as experimental. My final two months, explorative and exciting.
People always talk about how much their study abroad experience changed them as a person. They talk about how much fun they had and how many friends they made. I wish that was true for me, but it just is not. Studying abroad changed me so much, but that was because the journey to change was hell.
One of the biggest reasons my time abroad changed me was because I faced so many issues that I had already put effort into making sure there would not be problems. I put so much effort into making sure, 23 hours before I was set to leave, I had already said goodbye to my friends and family. I was informed that I could not travel on the first visa I had.
When I got the Teams message. It’s from my program advisor, “Hi there, I heard you still don’t have your visa?” She says at 5:23p.m. My flight was set to leave at 4p.m. the next day.
I quickly replied “So I got the first visa, but it had the wrong dates. And the only way to get the correct dates was to reapply and I have not gotten the reapplication back. But I still have the first visa, it didn’t say anything about it getting cancelled[sic] when I applied for the second one, and the first one is correct until December 13.” This reply was sent at 5:24 p.m.
Which sent me into an anxiety fueled spiral. “Okay, without the correct visa, you won’t be able to enter into NZ tomorrow so we’ll likely have to rebook your flight once you get it. Well, Saturday.. but leave tomorrow.” She told me. I started to feel as if I was balancing on the side of a cliff. Any move would send me and all of my hopes and dreams plummeting to our death.
I am fully panicking now and not trusting what I am reading, I replied “So I can’t leave tomorrow?” I can hear a pebble beginning to come loose somewhere on the cliff.
“Unfortunately, no because the visa is what allows you into the country. The University of Auckland is aware of the situation and will be happy to accept you once you receive it (as long as it comes before the end of July),” she at 5:42. The pebble fell. Everything in me feels crushed. The pebble fell causing a rockslide, crushing me as a result.
My biggest question was why? Why now? Why not tell me sooner? Why wait? Why did you not tell me until 23 hours before I was meant to board my flight? Why me? Why is this happening? Why didn’t the pebble fall sooner? Was I kept out of the loop?
I did end up being able to go but not until almost three weeks later. I missed the first week of class, orientation, club meet and greet. I missed all my opportunities to make new friends and become integrated into the community.
But I got to go. Can I really be that upset?
However, when you spend so much time making sure things go right and they do not, it is fine to be upset. Another example is, I have ADHD and take medication for it. I have been on these meds for 10 years; I asked about how I would get them when I got abroad before I had applied.
I wanted to make sure that the CIP would be able to support me and knew what to do. I spent at least 4 full hour-long therapy sessions with my therapist talking about how anxious it made me that I was not going to be able to get the medications. I spent over three months emailing back and forth with the CIP, a contact at University of Auckland (UoA) Health Centre, and the UoA study abroad coordinators, before I left for New Zealand. I did everything within my power to assure that I would be able to get my medications when I got to New Zealand.
And yet, after all that effort, I still failed.
When I got to New Zealand, I learned you cannot use the paperwork from your American psychiatrist, you have to see a New Zealand Psychiatrist. I had been told by three different people who worked in New Zealand I could get my meds with my American paperwork. For the first time in 10 years, I was forced off of my ADHD medication, because I had run out. I called around 20 different psychiatrist places in NZ, and the only reason I got to be seen is because one very small practice felt so bad for me that they put me on the top of their cancellation list. And they ended up having one the next Monday.
The reason I am so different from the girl I was before studying abroad is because of the difficulties I faced while alone. I was put in a country without any support. The entire time I was in NZ, my program advisor only sent my study abroad group one email. I received no support from the college.
My parents live ten minutes from Kalamazoo College. They would drop everything to go to speak to college if something happened, because as my mom said, “I hate my baby being so far away and I can’t even give you a hug.” She did whatever she could to get someone at Kalamazoo College to support me. But her words fell on ears that were still unwilling to help. The CIP had two suggestions: 1. Go stand in an ER and don’t leave until you get to see a psychiatrist or get your meds, or 2. Go to the embassy and don’t leave until you get your medications.
And yes, I had amazing experiences studying abroad as well but every single time I think of those experiences I realize my study abroad would have been so much more fun if I had made one real friend while I was there. Not the friend who you can talk to during class, but only then, and not the friend who only talks to you when you’re both cooking, but if you try to talk to her anywhere else, she ignores you. I wanted a friend to share my experiences with, but instead I was left alone.
I loved the study abroad experience in the end, but I always think about how much more fun it could’ve been if I had had a friend.
When I talk to my friends about their study abroad experiences, they have such great memories and love to reminisce about their time away. While I remember being curled up on the floor under my desk holding onto my bear wishing everything would just be okay.
These difficulties helped me grow as a person, helped me to learn how to be independent. They were still difficulties that were completely avoidable had the college listened to me and helped me when I asked for it.
The horrible experiences that started out my trip, is the reason I am who I am now. I learned to depend only on myself. Sometimes friends and family can help, but I have to be my own advocate, no matter how much I am afraid of it.
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