As I finally reach a point in time when I can have 30 minutes without having an essay to write, I sit and engage in retrospect. It is a quiet day, good for thinking. I find it difficult to believe, but soon, I’ll be back home. The term is almost over. When did that happen? It feels so long ago that I arrived in a new country to study. The change was so sudden, so daunting. Time went by so incredibly fast. Formals, BOPs, lectures and supervisions. They’re almost done for the term. I realise that I hadn’t noticed.

Then a thought crosses my mind. No one steps into the same river twice. That’s what Heraclitus said. I always thought that wasn’t true. But I suddenly realised that not only was this statement true, but that I wasn’t even the man in question. I was the river. Because I remembered that two months ago, someone came to Cambridge for matriculation. That person is vaguely familiar, but seems different somehow. Similar face; similar mannerisms even. But the mindset is different. Not entirely. But still significantly different.

That person was me. But I am that person no longer.

The person who arrived at Cambridge two months ago is gone. It is rather chilling in some respects, to have become more than what you were two months ago. This experience has changed me. Before coming here, all this seemed so distant, so implausible. You don’t really realise it until you’re there. And you find something very different than what you expected. For an international student, the change of lingua franca and norms can be very much an extra shock. And when the university that you never believed would even think to consider you accepts you, you feel very stressed. I remember myself saying goodbye to my dad and being very sombre afterwards. You could wait for this moment all your life. You can enrol in your dream university or even go beyond your wildest dreams and come to Oxbridge. But leaving your family is not easy. Not by a longshot. To live on your own for the very first time is a new and unknown experience that can seem very daunting at first.

But the experience is not at all unpleasant. I realise that I could not change the experience. And I realise that I was foolish. I shouldn’t have been afraid. Life brings us many sudden changes. Why be scared when you can embrace them? The thought crosses my mind and I realised that the fact that I changed was not bad at all. None of my close friends were here with me when I arrived. That was slightly terrifying, but now it doesn’t matter. I felt so stressed when I received my first essay. It seemed so difficult, so beyond my capabilities.

Now, every time I receive a new essay, I sit back and make a plan. Even cooking seemed difficult. I kept rushing to close the gyp room door every time someone opened it, because I didn’t know if I would set off the fire alarm and receive the wrath of the rest of the college.

Stoicism slowly started to overtake the scared little guy that arrived here. I joined societies and started to write again (as this article can attest to). It was very unconscious, but it did happen. And I found the effects to be very positive. Supervisions became more relaxed as I learnt to not be afraid.

I also learned that no obstacle is too high to overcome. Picture a maths problem that seems completely incomprehensible. You just don’t understand. Then you finally get that golden vibe and you realise that you’ve been looking at it all wrong. I felt the same way with language. It isn’t my first language, and I thought I may have some issues. People seemed to talk too fast at the beginning and some of the slang seemed nonsensical. Then, slowly, I adapted.

I realised one day that I understood what the word ‘quid’ meant without having to think for two seconds. And I realised that all this pressure and uncertainty that I felt had withered away. My college mates, my supervisors, virtually anyone that I had to talk to were very open. Not once did I have any difficulty when I made a mistake during essay writing. All I got was a small note that said that I should fix that. It was exactly like solving a maths problem. All I needed was to catch that golden vibe.

It is not easy changing environments. Environments are what define you, and changing them inevitably changes you as well. Fellow international students will know the culture shock of changing a country. British students, too, will empathise due to leaving their hometowns to come here – Cambridge of all places. We all have gone through the culture shock to some extent. Your favourite food is nowhere to be found, or it exists as a crude supplement of your grandma’s cooking. Your favourite places to hang out are not here. How can they possibly be replaced? It does indeed seem difficult. I remembered coming here and being slightly afraid that I would have difficulty making friends. But I found that all you need to do is just relax, because there is always someone to talk to and something to do.

For me, that meant going to the Model United Nations sessions and turning them into stand-up comedy stunts. For some of my friends, it was waking up at the crack of dawn to go rowing. For others still, it was Fez. I took up a hobby with a Nietzschian passion and I found a way to let off steam. All these sudden changes happened without my noticing, within a mere two months.

As I sit down in front of my laptop and I see all the changes I wrote down, I understand that everything changes. The fact that a 2,500-year-old statement by a Greek philosopher not only made sense, but that I had been looking at it wrong all along. My life was the river. It changes constantly, and coming to Cambridge was the greatest change of them all.

Truly, there was someone here that thought that I, like everyone else here, could cope with the dramatic change. I find myself unable to disagree. For me or for my friends. We could go through this. Even at times when all your essays are crammed into the same week because your schedule got messed up. These things would come anyway. Why should anyone of us be afraid? We can always find time to enjoy ourselves; always pull all-nighters to finish overdue essays. It’s only a matter of perception. That’s what this very first term taught me. I can always change my perception and get through this. That change is not something to be afraid of.

I couldn’t do anything about the changes that happened to me. And I find myself to be fool for having been afraid. But being afraid is part of leaving home. To change fundamentally as a person is part of university life. I learned to be stoic, and to just go with it. I may have changed, but my attitudes towards that change have become more mature. And I find myself looking forward to the next term (after a much-needed break, of course). Because if such changes happened in just one term, the next few years will be very interesting indeed