Getting Used to Familiar

Dhaka, Bangladesh—it’s two thirds the size of Kingston, Ontario with a population of over 9.5 million people at its core and over 20 million people total, making it the most densely populated city in the world. Putting that into perspective, for every 1 person in Kingston, there’s 80 people in Dhaka. Look around you now, and think of what it would be like if every one person you could see turned into 80 people. The line at Starbucks just got a whole lot longer, trying to find a seat in your tutorial turned into a seemingly impossible task, and driving through University and Union at 20 past any hour became even more hectic. I spent this past summer working in Dhaka, and it was an experience unparalleled to any other.

Coming from Canada and having gone on exchange in New Zealand, heading to Bangladesh could not have been more of a contrast. I went from mountaintops to rooftops, Tasman Sea to flooded streets, blending in to standing out, and from being foreign to still foreign, but this time in an incomparable way. At least in New Zealand I could spit out the odd “bro” or “mate” and fool my way into being local, but in Dhaka my “assalamualaikum” didn’t work as well. It was going to be two months surrounded by people, culture, and language that were completely unfamiliar to me, but I was ready to embrace it.

People always talk about the culture shock of moving to a new place and how hard it can be to overcome. What nobody told me was that the culture shock would be ten times worse coming back to Kingston. In Dhaka, I managed the culture shock because I knew it was coming, preparing as best I could. After my months of travel, I returned home to Canada and almost immediately to Kingston. When I returned, it felt as if everything about this place had changed and I no longer fit in. I remember standing in a group with ten of my closest friends and feeling more alone than I felt in Bangladesh. Trying to talk with my friends, I felt socially awkward—I just didn’t know how to have a conversation with these people anymore. Maybe it was because I talked so little in Dhaka and everyone here talks so much, but I couldn’t keep up. Mid conversation, I would give up and bow my head—surrounded by friends, I felt further away than ever before.

Every party I went to, I was bumping into friends and peers that I hadn’t seen in eight months. Almost every interaction identical, based around the same meaningless question, “Hey! How was your summer?” I really couldn’t stand this question. Everyone who asked me this was expecting a one-sentence answer, but how could I possibly sum up eight months of friendships and relationships, crazy experiences, and years worth of personal growth into that one sentence? It was an impossible task that made me feel as though I had lived another life, and I would never be able to talk about it. Whenever I wanted to share anything that I had done in the past eight months, people never failed to remind me that I was away, always throwing out phrases like “Oh world traveller” or, “Wow were you on exchange or something?” This just added to the already hard time I was having trying to reconnect with my friends.

After that first week, I realized that I was wrong to think that everything had changed when I was gone. The bubble that is Queen’s University was the exact same as when I left—it was I who had changed completely. My views weren’t aligned with my friends’, the things we found important varied drastically, and my sense of humour had shifted. I was left as an outcast. I had spent months longing to come home and reunite with everyone, sleepless nights thinking about loved ones I would see soon, and the feeling of hope for anything familiar. All of these moments were squandered by the harsh reality that I’d never fit in like before, but it’s okay. In fact, my new found global perspective and consequent maturity were amazing accomplishments in their own. I’m proud of the way I see the world, and I have a much better understanding of and empathy for anyone who has moved away from their home.

Moving from culture to culture can be difficult, even if either one was once familiar to you. If you have the chance today, reach out to someone who has immigrated to Canada, came home from abroad, or just moved away from home for the first time. It’s important to let your friends know that you’ve got their back, and to make sure they don’t feel like a stranger in their own home.

Story & Photography by Ashton Stoop