Most likely, each and every one of us has, upon arrival, gone through some pretty dramatical happenings. However, everyone has his own personalized drama called, with the general and quite indifferent term, "cultural shock". I cannot imagine what the others have gone through, and I could not, because I have been too preoccupied with my individual disconsolation; so, I will talk of my feelings and experiences during the last few weeks. If I could summarize all the overwhelming occurrences, the aftermath would be: loss of my identity, fluctuation, miscommunication and disapointment. All of these negative undergoings are, without a doubt, due to the transition from a settled, secure, and complete life to an existence that is not bound to one's expectations and "margin of readiness" to cope with what does not fit one's wishes. The issue here is not whether a changeover is good or bad; nor about whether it is necessary or worth it.
Rather, I think, what concerns us mournful freshmen is the woe of a changeover, and the struggle to withstand the unbelievable amount of pressure. Coping with whatever comes around without any help and eventually attaining the tranquility and serenity of "the demystified" and the "reowned reality" is our main objective though it might be pursued unconsciously.
I had never in my life underwent detachment from my family, relatives and friends; I lost in an instant everything I have known, everything that had been mine, that had been me... Moreover the passage was reasonably rapid, even immediate and compelling. I did not have time to get used to the thought of not having my beloved ones near me. I remember the ease that my parents' physical presence in this town brought to me during the first couple of days of college. And I will never forget...