This September thousands of students like you will descend upon Leuven and begin a new odyssey. I too was a newbie here once (almost 4 years ago now) and I still remember rather vividly the day I arrived in this city.

Like me back then, you are probably very excited and look forward to many great experiences in this charming university town. There are trips to various parts of Europe to be taken, parties to be attended, and of course, fries, chocolate, and beer to be enjoyed (more than 500 of them!). Along with these nice experiences, there are naturally others that may bring discomfort, insecurity, and even extreme loneliness. I can think of three in particular that no international student in Leuven (or anyone studying outside of her own country for that matter) can avoid: the pain of leaving home, nostalgia, and encountering otherness.

These may seem quite obvious but I believe it's worthwhile to give them some thought and see what each may mean. I would like to focus on the first two here. Yes, it's almost trivial to say that if you want to study abroad, you'll have to leave your country. But we do know that it's a momentous event, especially if it's your first time to go beyond the borders of your homeland. One is leaving home! To mark this event, a farewell party is organized. We gather to ourselves those people closest to us one last time, share a meal with them, recount stories of what we've gone through together, and express to them both our expectations and perhaps fears about living far away. We want to be with them because we know that we'll be leaving them behind and won't be seeing them for a considerable length of time. Of course given today's technology, speaking with anyone of them is just a few mouse-clicks away. However, it's a fact that at least for a time, we will not be able to be with them the way we did before left home. (Didn't Milow complain, "I'm tired of using technology"?) Some of you, moreover, may even have visited places that hold for you some special importance. All of this indicates that we're aware that when we go abroad we're leaving behind all those familiar and important people and places that form part of one's world.

To venture out of one's country then is to leave one's home. To quit one's home means to step out of one world and enter another. Some may think that it's not big a deal—but keep in mind that one is going out of one's known environment into a new one that is in many ways different. One is like a fish propelled out of water or an animal driven out of its natural habitat and forced to survive in its new surroundings. My point is that leaving home is not an easy thing to do. It is possible that one will feel insecure and confused in your new environment, what with the things that at least initially do not make sense and/or are simply shocking (the language, habits, attitudes, beliefs and practices of the locals, "the way things are done around here," and so on). This is how Alice in Alice in Wonderland felt most of the time in that crazy world she fell into. That world made very little sense and Alice kept on changing (growing bigger and smaller depending on what she ate) so that at one point she was no longer sure of who she really was: "Dear, dear! How queer everything is today! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!"

What could even be a greater source of stress is the longing for home felt in the foreign land. Milan Kundera explains in his novel Ignorance the etymological sense of the word nostalgia. In Greek, nostos means return and algos means suffering. Nostalgia then is the pain or suffering one endures because of a deep yearning to return to one's homeland. Kundera goes on to point out that the words for nostalgia in European languages convey not only a sense of longing for home but also the pain experienced in the absence of home or the beloved. It can be understood as "the pain of ignorance," that is, of missing and not knowing anything about that distant place, thing or person one is nostalgic for. One is no longer there in one's home. Everything and everyone dear and familiar are absent, far away. One longs to get back to them—but one can't at the moment—thus the pain and suffering.

I may have painted a rather grim picture of studying abroad. But the initial shock in a different land, confusion (about new people, ways of doing things, about oneself, etc.) and the yearning for those significant people and places are part of the experience of venturing out of one's home. Yes, they cause stress and loneliness. But they are also sources of new strength, understanding and wisdom. Going abroad is also a great adventure and one is sure to find resources within oneself to be able to endure and enjoy. By having an open and understanding attitude and with the help of a little reflection, of new friends, (and don't forget some beer!) you will be able to cope in the new and different situation you find itself in. If you let yourself, even given these initially negative experiences, you will be changed for good and for the better.