Living in a small town in southern Russia, surrounded by high mountains, I used to imagine what life was like out there, beyond those peaks. Back then, of course, these thoughts felt like something out of reach, and my parents’ encouraging words seemed merely indulgent. But deep down, I kept believing it would all happen—that a city I had only seen in photos was waiting for me. I had no idea what city it was, but that it was waiting was as clear as a bright, sunny day.

Whenever people ask how I ended up in Malaysia, my answer is always simple and concise: by accident. It is fascinating and intriguing to watch people’s faces when they hear that. “You ended up in a country eight thousand kilometres away by chance?” Of course, I could use other words—fate, destiny, or even better, coincidence. But I prefer “chance”. There is something mysterious about that word.

What was this “chance”? Nothing supernatural was happening during the spring break of my graduation year. But one evening, my mum called me and said there was a meeting in a neighbouring town where they would be talking about studying abroad. When I asked where she found the information, she said she had just wandered across a news portal by accident. I remember her saying it would just be interesting to listen. So, we went.

We returned on the train with the firm intention of trying to apply to Xiamen University Malaysia. Just to try. The documents were submitted, time passed, and it became clearer and clearer that the dream wasn’t so far away after all. And then, in the summer of ’24, I received a letter from the university saying I was enrolled. There was so much joy. But there was also the realisation that everything familiar to me would be left behind.

I faced a choice that was only an illusion: to go or not to go. It was an illusion because I already knew the answer. I had to go. Sitting on the plane heading toward my new life, I didn’t realise what my choice and the exit from my comfort zone would bring me. I—a girl who used to be afraid to even order at a coffee shop—was travelling alone to the other side of the continent. But curiosity and ambition took over.

Yes, it was very hard at first. Being far from family, without their immediate support, and the simple feeling that you are “not under your own sun” make you doubt your actions. In those moments, you must remind yourself that “everything passes, and this too shall pass,” repeating it like a mantra.

But this is university. There are many people like you: students who miss their families and feel like fish out of water. And students like that gravitate toward each other. That is how the university gave me my wonderful friends. It all started with a message about an iron. My future friend wrote to a student group about buying an iron, and I decided to message her because I was terribly lonely. She replied, and we decided to meet. Then she introduced me to her mates.

We have been close friends for almost a year and a half now. We’ve been through so much together: the joy of passing exams, each other’s successes, the sadness of goodbyes, the fear of the unknown, and trips together. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t attended this university.

Then there are the travels. If someone had told my fourteen-year-old self that at eighteen, she would take her first solo trip to Singapore and fulfil a dream by flying to Bali with a friend, I would have laughed in their face. To this day, I am still amazed by everything my foundation year has brought me.

It also helped me define my path. I am a very multifaceted person, which can be a problem because you can’t always figure out who you really are or what you represent. Having an interest in everything, you ask yourself: what do I actually want from life? What do I want to bring to this world? I always had this idea in my head that I needed to do something great to be remembered. Not fame, but glory. Applying for a science stream, then switching to business, eventually led me to journalism.

I could write for a long time about what has happened to me over the past year at university, but one moment stands out. At first glance, it might seem ordinary, even a bit odd. People might not understand why this is my most vivid memory. One morning, I went out for a run while it was still dark and cool, and I had a moment of pure existential realisation.

Running to my favourite song at the time, I felt it in every fibre of my soul: I am studying abroad, I am studying a subject that interests me, not what society expected of me; I am friends with people from different cultures; and I saw the ocean for the first time. My skin broke out in goosebumps and tears came to my eyes. There was something magical about that moment, that air, that morning.

Closing this reflection, I want to say that yes, dreams do have the ability to come true, and luck can look your way. Every person should feel this at least once in their life. No matter what the world is like around you, you must never stop believing in miracles. Remember that “accidents are never accidental”.

This is the end of my story, but not my journey, because there is more to come. I am still in love with cities I haven’t been to and people I haven’t met. But the beginning of the path has been laid, and I am glad it happened in Malaysia, at Xiamen University Malaysia.

By Gamakharova Mariia

2025/09

Journalism