On November 5th 2023, the sun slips away from the afternoon sky. I’m bamboozled—what is going on? And then my roommate tells me: today, the clock changes. Daylight savings time is over.

When something ridiculous like this happens, when time changes on a whim, you’re suddenly brought in contact with how some things we take as fact are completely made up. What is 4pm? We simply decided that the time is 4pm and agreed on what that means. When the sun scurries home an hour earlier than it should, these rules reveal themselves as artificial and crumble away. The only things that remain are the star-speckled skies, the trees blanketed in velvety twilight, and the rustle of autumn leaves against the cold.

I slip on my thick winter jacket, beanie, and gloves, and make my way to the trail near my house. Slivers of light filter through my sky into someone else’s dawn. With every darkening moment, I feel more and more like a fairy in the woods. Something mystical has happened. The guards of the world have fallen, blending afternoon and evening into an endless blueness I could cast ripples into with the touch of a fingertip. I feel the chill on my face with delight. Winter is here.

I don’t know it yet, but in a few weeks, I am going to experience my first snow. I’ll get a text that it’s snowing on Burnaby Mountain, scramble to get onto a bus, then stand at the center of soft swirling flakes till my socks are drenched, and them some. In a few more weeks, the trees will lose all their leaves and divulge their beautiful geometric patterns– branches eager to hold onto one another, an intimacy otherwise concealed. In a few months, I will walk back to this trail to see spring break into the ground through tiny buds and saplings.

But we’re not there yet. Right now, I’m in the middle of the woods, time has spun out of sense, night has no rush to turn into day, and moonlight will rest on the fallen leaves for hours and hours and hours.

On January 1, 2024, I stepped off the plane and into a world of new beginnings. Arriving in British Columbia on New Year’s Day felt symbolic – like a fresh start. I was filled with excitement, but the reality of navigating life in a foreign country soon dawned on me.

From the very start, I realized the importance of seeking support. My first visit to the university’s International Office marked a turning point for me. Following a brief orientation event, I headed to the International Office to seek outanswers to questions I was too timid to ask in front of a crowd. When I finally found the office, I anxiously unlocked the door, stepped inside, and instantly felt the warmth of the staff. They walked me through all my pressing questions, from taking advantage of my course advisor to my rights as an international student. The staff also guided me on academic requirements and campus events focused on engaging the international community and acclimating us to a new culture. Visiting the office reassured me that I wasn’t alone. I left feeling lighter, knowing support was just a door away.

Another defining moment came from a conversation with an international advisor. I opened up about myinterest in mental health advocacy and my dream of creating space for open conversations about wellness in diverse communities. She encouraged me to volunteer and connect with local and virtual organizations aligned with my interests. Inspired, I applied to mental health organizations, joined the student psychology club at my university and attended career-building seminars. Each step helped me build confidence and guided my professional and personal growth.

Beginning my journey in January gave me the perfect opportunity to turn a new page, both literally and figuratively. It taught me the value of embracing new cultures, relying on support systems, coping with unforeseen challenges, and celebrating successes. For anyone beginning their international student journey, my advice is simple: take advantage of the available resources. I promise you will be amazed at the strength and growth that follow when you take that step forward and face change head-on.

I look a bit silly carrying a heavy bag, smothered by a thick winter jacket, hauling a stack of books to the counter. But when I first came here, I asked the librarian, “How many books can I check out at a time?” and she said, “As many as you can carry.” Rookie mistake.

Now, a library book travels with me wherever I go, a steady source of adventure during slow lines and long bus rides. The books, however, are only one of the reasons that I keep returning to the library.

When I was new to British Columbia, I was searching for community. A new city can be lonely without people you regularly spend time with. After a bunch of Googling, I learned that many libraries host book clubs. Soon, the second Saturday of each month was spent at the library, chatting with readers from different walks of life over homemade treats and cups of tea. The books were almost secondary for me. I came here for the warmth, the camaraderie, and the brief pockets of time our lives crossed paths.

More recently, I’ve begun to use the library the way a student probably should– to study. My friend and I go to the library every other weekend, look for tables near the charging points, and settle into the comfortable chairs, our open books and blinking cursors awaiting us. Despite the many breaks we take to snack, chitchat and wander aimlessly around – but probably because of it- , I find myself making more progress in the few hours spent at the library than I do all day at home.

I like that there’s a library at every corner, each offering a unique ambience and collection of works. For instance, the Central Library has rows of shelves dedicated to career options for BC residents, and a special set of resources for newcomers. The librarians can also customize recommendation lists for you based on your reading preferences. These are only the services I have availed of, but there are many more – drop-in resume clinics, queer book clubs, and ESL practice sessions. For an international student new to BC, I would recommend that when you get your credit card, sim card, and other essentials, get a library card. You will find things you didn’t know you were looking for. Books are just one thing on that list.

The smell of a new apartment filled my nose as I laid in bed. It was my first time being so far from home, and excitement was building in my chest. But as my class schedule rolled in and the weeks went by, I found myself growing homesick and irritable. Everything about my new environment seemed to annoy me.

I had hit culture shock, hard. Culture shock can feel like colliding with an immovable object if you’ve never experienced it. It’s the anxiety and disorientation that comes with moving to a new place. It’s inevitable, but more importantly, it’s manageable. I managed it by sticking to my three R’s: Research, Routine, and Reach. I cannot stress how important it is to research where you’ll be living. I thought I was ready to move to Canada since it wasn’t so different from the US, but how wrong I was. I paid the price by getting soaked in the winter, not taking seriously how much rain Vancouver actually got. Make sure to stay dry and do your research- YouTube vlogs, for example, are a great way to see what life is like. Being prepared will make your move much smoother.

I found that building a routine is what helped the most. Following my class schedule was a good start, but adding in fun habits is what made the difference. Initially, I would just rot in my room after class, upset because I was too stubborn to accept that life wouldn’t be exactly what it was like back home. However, creating a routine helped me make a home of where I was, a familiarity in the unfamiliar. I fell in love with going to the gym, but for you, it could be making yourself a cup of tea before bed or journaling in the morning. It doesn’t have to be complex, just something that you enjoy doing.

Reach comes in two parts: creating a goal and staying connected with people. The goal I set myself was to start cooking. It was something other than school that interested me and kept me engaged. Staying connected to my friends and family back home helped me feel grounded, but pushing myself to create friendships here is what made Vancouver feel more like a home. It’s scary and it’s hard, but it’s worth it. You never know who you’ll meet and what relationships can form if you never try.

Yes, culture shock is difficult, and yes, it can feel like the end of the world, but luckily for you, it’s not. There will be good days, and there will be bad days, but moving abroad is more than experiencing a new culture. It’s also about finding yourself, and maybe a new place that you can call home.

As a student at the University of British Columbia, I was fortunate to have access to various support services.

Living on campus, particularly in the first year, is something I’d highly recommend. My Residence Advisor was incredibly supportive. She was always available to answer my questions about academics, social life, and adapting to life in Vancouver. She guided me through understanding the co-op program, getting involved in research, and exploring housing options. Whenever I needed advice, I’d find myself knocking at her door. Residence Advisors are well-trained to provide support in various areas, including mental health.

When it came to academic support, my professors were accessible and approachable. They held office hours, where we could discuss not just course-related issues, but also my long-term academic goals. The Psychology Student Association organized multiple events for networking with professionals from relevant career fields, which was super valuable. I only started attending these events in my third year and wish I had done so sooner. Participating earlier would have helped me to create a more structured plan for grad school and feel less overwhelmed during my first year. Advisors from UBC’s Academic Advising office were also able to support me in making sure I was on track with the right courses for graduating in time.

Lastly, when it comes to health support, I was lucky that UBC has mental health counselors in residence, its own hospital, and three clinics on campus – two for general health and one for dental care. There are also many virtual health options available at no extra cost to students with valid health insurance. However, in emergencies, it gets tough due to high wait times in BC. Many of my friends went through long, painful waiting periods. The wait times for specific scans can also be lengthy, which is problematic when immediate assessment is needed. This is an area in which BC can improve. Hopefully the wait times will be decrease in the future.