Nour: Aug. 31 marks my departure day. It was my last day at home. I do not want to make a big deal out of it because my NYU Abu Dhabi experience was dependent on me leaving home behind and resettling in the UAE, but no matter how many times I pack up and move, it still stings. I have spent the last three months of summer inside the very enclosing walls of this house pointing out to my mother every part of its interior that does not sit neatly on poetry lines inside my head. The things I kept calling repulsing and suffocating suddenly became what held my entire lifeline, that I was reminiscing about, within their very creases and old paint. On that day, the walls were not confining — they were embracing. I, however, am starting to believe it’s part of my packing routine. The routine goes: 1) arrive home after a semester, wounded; 2) revive my energy; 3) start pointing out everything that repulses me about the house; 4) keep getting more repulsed; 5) make sure everyone knows I am excited to leave; 5) use the “next summer I am not booking a ticket to visit” line in every argument; 6) find a new thing that I dislike about the house and mention it to my mum the moment that she wakes up the next day; 7) go out on a beautiful evening walk with soft breeze and remember everything I have loved but forgotten about home; 8) departure day comes closer, I keep saying I am excited to leave; 9) I am anxious, I do not handle changes in new environment well; 10) I spend more time with my cat, who my therapist says I have an unhealthy attachment to, before leaving for 5 months; 11) The distinct smell of my house that is only familiar to visitors visiting for short periods of time overwhelms my nostrils marking the end of my visit; 12) I kiss and hug my best friend of 8 years goodbye; 13) my mum drops me off at the airport. I am overwhelmed and in tears. The tears keep flowing until I go through the unbelievably frustrating airport security check at my country’s airport — I remember at that moment why I left this country 3 years ago and applaud myself internally for taking this decision.

Dana: I am leaving home, excited to start my journey abroad. I have been dreaming about this moment for months now, planning out what I am going to do with Nour in Dublin. Packing my entire life into a suitcase has always been an easy task for me, despite the suitcase still weighing upwards of 25 kg. I am awake earlier than Nour, heading to the airport while everyone is still asleep, so I have to find a way to waste three hours on my own. More importantly, however, I am trying to keep myself awake for as long as possible. This is my first time moving abroad on my own for longer than three weeks. It is a new feeling, exhilarating I would say. I enter the airport with my Notes app filled with pages about things to remember, supermarkets close to campus, and “first steps” for when we arrive. It is a 13-hour journey from the UAE to Dublin, and for someone with motion sickness, that is not very fun. I swallow a motion sickness pill and get on the first plane.

Nour: Seven hours later, I am in Dublin’s airport and Ireland’s fresh clean air is in starkly the one I am used to back home. I am reminded again of what a great decision I made by choosing to do an exchange program at Trinity College Dublin with my best friend, who I got introduced to in our “Introduction to Psychology” class during the fall of my first year, Dana (but to be fair it was Dana’s idea to divert from the norm and do an exchange program). I go to passport control, look at my Canadian passport, and humbly go over to the back of the never-ending line of non-EU citizens. I am once again reminded of how much I hate airports, passports, and bureaucracy. Separating people in the airport based on the passport that they hold has never made sense to me, yet here I am, standing in a longer and slower line because I do not have an EU passport. I know that if Dana was with me she would have both laughed at me for taking longer but also agreed with my annoyance.

Dana: I did, in fact, laugh at Nour when I found out how long she took and I would have agreed with her annoyance, she is right.

Nour: “Neeeext!” The immigration officer shouted. I am welcomed with the scowling face of a man which is an obvious consequence of capitalism, I think to myself. I am abruptly struck back to reality and quickly go towards the immigration officer. She processes me through and grants me my on-arrival student visa in less than three minutes. In a matter of moments, I am reunited with Dana at the baggage reclaim lobby and our bodies perfectly hug one another — one could safely assume that we were made to be whole. I am safe because I am with Dana — my mind calms down. We decided to take the airport bus to Dublin City Centre and then walk the remaining distance to campus for an “authentic” experience. Looking back at it now, I am unsure which part of the “walking with 4 big and heavy pieces of luggage in the middle of the city center and then not knowing how to get from the city center to the campus” was “authentic” but we did save a minimum of 20 euros (and I do not like calculations of finances, money talk makes me anxious. It’s obvious who manages the finances in this friendship) which was the correct thought process to have as exchange students. Hooray! As students coming from NYUAD, we expected the unrealistically special treatment that visiting students get on our campus, but we were surprised to learn that our accommodation was closed and the security was completely unaware of our arrival, which was a really humbling experience. At some point, it did feel like we were begging the university to take us in when we were trying to find someone to give us our rightfully claimed room keys, but we do not have to get into that sore topic here. I have never fully grasped the concept of culture shock, especially given the “global village” we live in today — but at this moment, I definitely did! I am not sure if I should begin with the extremely narrow and steep staircase that can fit either you or your suitcase (but not both) or with the bright red fitted carpet covering every inch of my sardine-box-sized room, which feels older than my ancestral line. But culture shocks were all I experienced for the first few hours within the confines of my not-so-spacious medieval-looking bedroom. I called my mum sobbing telling her all about the adaptors that do not work, the green wooden chair that does not match the red carpet, the bathroom that is an arm's length, the very high bed that you quite literally have to rock climb to sleep on, and PayIt and my FAB card that do not carry out the one job they were designed to do. I have never been very good at dealing with big changes. Adaptability is the one thing that my exchange program has been teaching me, and I have been trying to gracefully let the world teach me a thing or two about it. After all, I am still trying to find my footing in this big, beautiful city, let alone the world.

Dana: From the moment I landed in Dublin, several people have said, “Oh my god, how are you in Dublin for your study away?” and every single time I have to smile and say, “Oh, it’s an exchange program!” I hope this is the last time I have to say this, but I am sure it will not be — NYU is a partner institution with several other universities around the world, Trinity College being one of them. It does not always feel like a partnership, since Nour and I have had to figure out most things on our own — housing, classes, applications, you name it, but you can still study away at these partner schools. It was my idea to choose an exchange site, to get away from the chaos of NYU and its sites and especially the internal problems that have plagued my university experience. It was not easy, and it will continue to not be easy because unlike all study away sites, Nour and I do not have the luxury of going to Facebook posts for advice on Dublin, classes to take, or hearing other people’s experiences. We would have to maneuver this entire experience on our own.

Nour: The next few days bolted towards me with overwhelming emotions and adulthood responsibilities. Coming from a household where I did not have to worry about expenses or cooking or cleaning, paying for groceries stressed me out a lot. I always had the irrational overwhelming fear of the possibility of going broke the next morning. The first time I meal-prepped our carbohydrates for the week, I ended up cooking mediocre stir-fried noodles that could feed a village for two weeks. That night I went to bed — you guessed it right — crying: embarrassed at my failed cooking attempt because cooking and baking have always previously been a calming hobby of mine. However, in that dorm kitchen, it was not a hobby but rather an essential part of adulthood.

While nutrition sometimes still feels too optional considering the time commitment it requires, my love for cooking quickly found its way back into me. Cooking now is the most enjoyable part of adulting to me. I enjoy showing my love to Dana by learning how to cook her tofu the way she likes it or making my flatmate vegetable soup when they tell me that they are feeling sick. My apartment’s kitchen is where I can naturally give back all the love humanity has gracefully shown me ever since I settled in Dublin.

All jokes aside, Dublin has been beautiful and healing for my soul and I am looking forward to making a home out of it in the next coming months.

Dana: What a first two weeks it has been, and I am glad I have spent them with Nour. I do not think I could have done it with anyone else by my side. She has made this experience an enjoyable one, and I am eternally grateful to have her here with me. We have found our go-to grocery stores, our favorite cafe, donut shop, and late-night walking paths. I am starting to fall in love with this city and its culture, and I am excited to explore more of it with Nour. 16 days in, only 108 days to go (unfortunately).

Nour: I love you.

Dana: I love you more.

With love, Nour and Dana