It’s the first day of Welcome Week – I am a little nervous to meet my RSP group because up until now, I’ve barely interacted with any American students. In the days leading to Welcome Week, we’ve had our international student     orientation and despite the fact that we are all from a variety of different countries and speak many different languages, we’ve all bonded instantly over our shared experience of being away from home and being new to the US.

Regardless, I’m optimistic: I picture myself becoming friends with the students in my RSP group and I look forward to meeting them. After our initial introductions, our preceptor asks us to form groups of three and to try to find things that we all had in common. 

It turns out that I have very, very little in common with the two guys that I’m paired with, and one of them is utterly shocked that I don’t know much about baseball. After a few more iterations of the same exchange where he suggests things that I either have no clue about or do not have in common with them, he finally asks me, exasperated: “Do you even have cars on your island?” 

I am taken aback. Did he really just ask me this? I feel humiliated, angry. “No we don’t,” I want to snap. “We also don’t have an airport, I got here on a sailboat.” But not wanting to spite people on my first day, I settle for “What kind of question is this?” 

“A good one?” he asks, laughing. I don’t laugh with him. 

For the record, Mauritius – my home country – is ranked higher than the US in terms of democracy, provides free health care and education for all its citizens, and is known for being one of the most economically stable countries in the world. And yes, we do have cars. 

A few days later, I’m in my World Lit class, talking to my classmates about how I don’t know much about literature because I never had to take it in my secondary school. I studied Math, Chemistry and Physics in school, I explain to them. 

“Is that how the education system is like in India?” one classmate asks me. I am confused by his question; it takes me a few moments to realize that he is assuming that I’m from India, without me telling him so. 

As the semester goes along, most of the people in my RSP group have bonded quite well – they seem to have a comfort level with each other that I wish I shared as well. Part of it is my fault – I start to distance myself from them after my initial attempts to get to know them backfire. 

As much as I try, I have very little to talk about with the students in my RSP group and I can rarely contribute meaningfully to their conversations. Since I always feel uncomfortable and lonely whenever I have to hang out with them, I try my best to avoid those commitments, at times even lying just to get out of another event that we are required to attend with our RSP group. 

At the end of the fall semester, I’m relieved that RSP class is over; I look forward to having a fresh, clean start in the spring semester and I earnestly promise myself that I’ll try to make some new friends in my classes. I have no such luck until my sophomore year. 

Life as an international student in the US isn’t easy. We have to navigate our way through the complicated (and paperwork-laden) procedures of acquiring health insurance, a new bank account, a social security number so we can work on campus, among many others. 

We try our best to adapt to a new culture with its slang terms and endless pop culture references and food that is so different from what we’re used to that it sometimes seems inedible to us, we try to communicate in a language that we’re not used to speaking in. We try not to get offended when people feel entitled to tell us where we’re from, we find ourselves having to dispel misconceptions and stereotypes even though we didn’t sign up for that, and to top it all, we experience a perpetual longing for home.

Most of us are paying for the majority of our tuition fees – we bring in significant financial revenue. We add to the diversity at Creighton – because of us, Creighton can boast of having students from a wide variety of countries. In return, all we ask is a little kindness and open-heartedness. 

That’s exactly what 22 student Ambassadors signed up for last week, when they took on the responsibility of acting as a mentor for new international first year students. The program, funded by Rev. Daniel Hendrickson S.J.’s Creighton Global Initiative, took off last week when the new international students were paired with older students to guide them throughout their first semester of college. 

The aim of the Ambassador program is to help international students better acclimate themselves with college life and get the peer support that is crucial during their first few months of college. Having worked with the program since its inception, it’s very close to my heart as my only hope for new international students is that they have an enriching first semester, with mutually rewarding interactions with American students. 

Before signing off, I would like to give a huge shout out to all the Ambassadors who are selflessly dedicating their time to bond with and support the international students, to the professional staff members who tirelessly committed to setting this program up: Becky Nickerson and Curtis Taylor from the Creighton Intercultural Center, Dr. Young, the Associate Vice Provost for Student Development,  Shama Ali from the Global Engagement Office, as well as fellow College of Arts and Sciences senior Sarah Huddleston who did a marvelous job of helping coordinate the program. Last but not the least, I would like to profusely thank Fr. Hendrickson for starting the Creighton Global Initiative, as well as the panelists who approved our proposal: we promise not to disappoint you.