How Studying Abroad Taught Me to Embrace the Unfamiliar

What I really learned at the Freie Universität Berlin

Freie Universität Berlin (Wikimedia)

It’s the first day of class, and I’m sitting in a classroom at the Friedrich-Meinecke-Institut at the Freie Universität Berlin. The professor hands out the class syllabus, and asks us to go around the room and briefly introduce ourselves. My heart drops, and then begins to race. This will be my first time interacting with real Germans, speaking real German. Explaining something as simple as my name, major, and favorite ice cream flavor has suddenly become a near-crisis. Will I freeze? Will they notice my accent? Will they judge me because I’m an American?

I end up introducing myself without issue. Although I felt my face redden, and I felt myself stumble over my words a little, I felt relieved and, dare I say, alive. It was a wonderful feeling to experience, and it’s one I hope I and other students can pursue and find at Columbia.

Columbia College is the “greatest College, in the greatest University, in the greatest city in the world” (shoutout Deantini). So why would anyone leave? That’s exactly what I asked myself last year before I decided to study abroad at the Berlin Consortium for German Studies for five months—the entire spring and summer semesters. I initially had no intention to go abroad: why would I leave my friends at Columbia? How would my classes transfer? Why would I go to a country where I’m not fluent in the language? 

I was ultimately convinced by two words: cultural immersion. I would get to observe how other people lived, even in the mundane. I would spend time in unfamiliar locations. I would be surprised by everything. And, despite how much I loved my friends and my routine at Columbia, I felt I needed to broaden my horizons. So I went.

The initial culture shock was difficult. The Germans are crazy about their Bier, Bratwurst, and above all, their Fußball. These things I expected. But more subtle differences—stores being closed on Sundays, the importance of the Spaziergang (an aimless stroll around town), and university life in Germany more generally—took me by surprise.

But, reckoning with and participating in a new way of life felt like a genuine form of learning. I wasn’t learning from a textbook or a lecturing professor. I was learning by living, and as I began to feel like a student who belonged at the Freie Universität, I had something to compare my old way of life to.

Most importantly and unexpectedly, by putting myself in an unfamiliar place, I learned to slow down and enjoy life.

Classes met only once per week. That meant I sat for four total classes per week, compared to the 10 class sessions per week (give or take) I attend while at Columbia. Between each class, students are afforded a 30-minute passing period, compared to the measly 15 minutes we are given at Columbia. There’s time to socialize, snack, and comfortably stroll to your next class.

Students in Berlin also have a much greater connection with nature. Green space on campus is abundant, and the city has plenty of parks, lakes, and other protected natural areas that are just harder to find and get to in New York City. I lived a 15 minute walk away from Schlachtensee lake. I heard birds chirping every day rather than the ambulances and honking of Manhattan. Even having to deal with flies and bees coming through my apartment window was one of many stark but welcome difference between my routine in Berlin versus the Concrete Jungle.

School also feels less transactional when you’re not burning cash or taking on student loans. For undergraduate study at the FU Berlin, you have to shell out a grand total of €0 in semesterly tuition with semesterly fees amounting to a whopping €304.40. When money isn’t an issue, students focus on learning for the sake of learning, rather than solely for the sake of a high-paying career, a mentality many Columbia students fall into. As a result, many students take their time with their schooling, often studying for longer than eight semesters (in a system designed for a three-year bachelor’s degree).

These differences meant that during my time abroad, my only significant source of stress was my non-native knowledge of the German language (as all my classes and many of my daily interactions were conducted entirely auf Deutsch). While it’s true that the Freie Universität Berlin doesn’t carry the same academic prestige as Columbia and the Ivy League, having ample time to do things other than problem sets and readings was a welcome change from Columbia’s strong stress culture.

None of these differences are feasible solutions for Columbia, at least not without immense change and a sudden cultural transformation. And while I loved the FU, I’m not advocating for everyone to pack up their bags and ship on over to Berlin.

But culture shock and immersion need not be experiences one must go abroad for. In our own backyard, there are unique perspectives and mindsets waiting to be discovered. For me, I’m returning to Morningside Heights with a renewed appreciation for seeking discomfort—at Berlin, it was living my life in German, but at Columbia, it might be as simple as making new friends from disparate social circles, exploring a new neighborhood, or attending a talk on an unfamiliar topic.

The more relaxed attitudes towards work ethic made it easy to for me to experience the mundane in a new light, but slowing down and practicing the Beginner’s Mind is a mindset available to us no matter where we are. Often the greatest things we learn come from the subtle parts of the world around us.

So, chat with someone vastly different from yourself. Learn about their worldview. Take a walk in the park. Enjoy nature and disconnect from the Concrete Jungle. But above all, seek the unknown and the unfamiliar—it might just make you feel alive.

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Mr. Ketcher is a staff writer for Sundial. He is a senior at Columbia College studying economics and German literature and cultural history.