Life Stories: My Experience Moving to the UK

(Image courtesy of Unsplash)

23rd October 2021

By Tracy Okundia

When my dad told me our flight was just ten days after my last day of school, those words triggered warm and salty tears. Our departure would have meant leaving everything behind without getting to finish my high school course, which was the most difficult thing to accept, even years later. I was not ready. One is never ready for changes of such magnitude; however, one must face them regardless.

I have no shame in admitting that these past few years have come with challenges that led me to doubt myself and my abilities like never before, but the results and successes I have achieved went far beyond my expectations.

Upon my arrival, my perception of my new reality changed immensely, and I realised that adapting to my new surroundings would be highly demanding. My biggest obstacle was the language, and my poor speaking or understanding hindered my first interactions with others.

However, my case not being neither the first nor the last, I felt understood by those around me. So, for an indefinite amount of time I refused to speak more than necessary, limiting my verbal exchanges to simple answers and straightforward questions and closely observing my colleagues at work and my peers at school.

In no time, however, England revealed itself to be a land of opportunity and in just two months from my landing, I started working. For once, no one minded my skin complexion and it never seemed to stir any problems or warrant uncomfortable situations. It was clear to me that this society was used to diversity, not only ethnic diversity, but in any which way it presented and manifested itself. For the first time, I saw black people working in banks, airports, offices, restaurants, libraries, schools, and universities. I saw students searching for jobs and work their way towards financial stability. All this was as inspiring as it was healing; I could not perceive any sense of division or subordination, instead, I felt part of a collective “us” that lightened the burdens I had always carried.

When I arrived, I experienced true disorientation, one that invaded all possible aspects of my life. As I mentioned earlier, communicating was not easy: I had to come to terms with things as common and obvious as “banter”, I had to deal with unheard dialects, lighting-fast speeches, and half-eaten words. I had to learn to get my bearings on a much bigger city, to get around with the bus, to memorise their numbers and routes, to understand on what side of the road was the right stop, to cross the street looking right and then left. The consciousness of having to get familiar with things I took for granted my whole life sank deep into my chest just as a punctured ship sinks to the bottom of the ocean. The throbbing desire to get hold of my new spatial reality forced my feet to walk every surrounding street, path, and alley.

Back in Loreto my days ended with the last school bell at 1 pm and I loitered wastefully until the evening. Everything happened with too much relaxation and delay. Here, on the other hand, time runs without minding who it leaves behind, it’s all a snap. It flies at a speed I had to adapt to quickly. The typical structure of the everyday life I was so used to suddenly lost its efficiency, and between one task and the other, my days began to come to a late end.

Learning to survive such a fast-paced life was as demanding as it was thrilling, as the purpose of my days went beyond just fulfilling my academic duties. Out of all I have achieved, being financially independent was the most precious, beautiful, and important thing. It has been a crucial step in my growth, helping me gain control of another aspect of this new reality. I could finally spend and save as I wished without weighing on anyone’s shoulders.

Starting this new chapter consumed all my attention and all my concentration, to the point I began struggling to commit myself to my dearest friendships in Italy. Subconsciously, my absolute priority became solidly grounding my feet and getting answers. Changing life in the span of a two-hour flight is overwhelming. It is an uncomfortable feeling like a fish out of water, everything about you imposes you to adapt as soon as possible. Even now, moments of utter disorientation merge with moments of pure excitement and positivity. Some days I would feel like my only place is one with one foot in England and one in Italy. But one can’t expect to walk forward while looking back. Some days I would feel like not belonging anywhere: forgotten there and unknown here. For a long time, my overall perspective on reality was blurred and out of focus, until I could see clearly.

The comparison between the two worlds is constant and constructive. To be able to see certain dynamics under two different lenses, understand things others do not understand, appreciate what others do not appreciate, perceive nuances and tones that others overlook, all count as a privilege, and this applies to both realities.

These three years flew by as rapidly as they drifted slowly, and new things keep springing out of every corner.