Two Months to a New Life

The Soon-to-be International Student (center)

This weekend I went out with a co-worker to celebrate a secret.  He won a scholarship to get his Master’s degree at a British university, starting in just two months.  He’s holding his breath and his good news to wait for official confirmation, and then he has to go through the month-long (at least) visa process, which usually takes longer because, as he told me, “The embassy people are always losing your documents.”

As the only person at work who has absolutely no stake in when and if he quits, and also since I am not inclined to gossip (since I know almost no one), I am one of only two people in town he has confided in.  At lunch, on the way to the post office, on the walk home, he catches up to me and starts speculating with hushed excitement about what life in the U.K. will be like.

“They keep saying bring very warm clothes.  I wonder how cold it’s going to get?” (Ugandans think that today, rainy and 69 degrees Fahrenheit, is an extremely chilly day.)

He is excited about seeing Westminster Abbey, paying for things in pounds instead of (Ugandan) shillings, and meeting a school representative holding a sign with his name on it as he steps into the arrivals area at the airport.

His excitement was infectious and I could relate, with the thrill of my move to New York City for graduate school not even a year behind me.  However, after dinner, as he swayed with eyes closed in blissful dreams  about his future, I realized that I could only understand a fraction of the happiness he was feeling.

He will be the first person in his family to leave Uganda.  On his scholarship, which he won over 10,000 other applicants, he will receive not only a living stipend but the opportunity to work up to twenty hours during the week and full-time during school holidays for the year he is there.  With the strength of the pound, any money is able to save from working in Britain can be socked away for the future – if he is able to extend his student visa or find a job after he finishes his degree, he is on his way to securing a comfortable life when he returns to Uganda.  He will have enough money to buy a house, get married, and better support the relatives that he is already helping out.  For him, studying in the UK is more than just a cultural exchange or the chance for a good education – it can mean financial security and a much happier future.

I noticed him grinning, the kind of elated grin where your cheeks hurt but it’s impossible to stop smiling.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him.

“Butterflies and flowers!  England, of course!” he replied.

This trip means so much to him.  He is about to encounter months of culture shock, homesickness, and uncertainty, but none of this can dampen his excitement.  I thought of all the immigrants I have encountered through my jobs throughout the years, whether refugees, students, or workers.  Immigration is a word that has been muddied in the U.S., covered with layers of vitriol and bitterness.  Since September 11, even those lucky few who’ve gotten student visas to study in the States have come under suspicion.  But for generations of people, many of our ancestors as well as millions of people embarking on their journeys today, it is a synonym for opportunity.  Security.  Freedom.  Hope.

I wish him all of these.