In the summer of 2006, my family had taken the day off only to usher me towards the promise of a big bright future in which I was about to scale continents only to educate myself. Three weeks later, in a sketchy Melbourne suburb, I was battling stubborn stains in the heat of a commercial kitchen.
The international student experience is not as advertised. But, 15 years after I was one myself, I now know exactly why: university brochures are to blame.
Daksh Tyagi pictured in 2006, soon after he arrived in Australia as an international student.
Now look, I am not saying that we replace those curated brochure photographs of big lawns and white teeth from various ethnicities, with say – a burdened kitchen sink. You don’t want potential students wondering if this is really the kind of education they need. But a better way forward might be to provide a more realistic picture of what students can expect upon their arrival.
Do not promise them they will get to “live like a local” only because they can catch a game of footy at the MCG. Instead, inform them that finding work is not as easy as it sounds.
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Brochures do not tell would-be international students that a 20-hour-per-week job is hard to find unless it is cash-in-hand. But they should at least tell them that in a job market, an international student is a first-time golfer playing with a single-digit handicap. Working 20 hours per week means you cannot apply for full-time jobs. Not even half-time jobs. The permissible hours are designed specifically so you can only get menial work.
“Menial being the operative word,” a friend had told me.
Also, how about we fix those multicultural covers for university brochures. I am yet to see an international student arrive in Australia and jump into a healthy mix of ethnicities. The instructions from home are clear. Stick to your own. Like me, most folks who had travelled from overseas stuck to people from their part of the world. Preferable, if they spoke the same language. Ideal, if they shared the dietary restrictions. Heavenly, if their surnames resembled. And nirvanic, if both parents knew where the other set lived.
The ongoing rental crisis has amplified student concerns, but the challenges remain similar. I had arrived in Melbourne hoping that the money I had brought might last until I found a job and a place to live. But, even finding an apartment was turning out unaffordable. A daily train ticket was $6. A bottle of milk was $3. At the time, a dollar was 35 times an Indian rupee, so I had to multiply my depression. I was converting everything. Bread, coffee, soap. A friend took me to the beach. I saw one woman topless. I told my friends back home I saw 35.
