Culture Shock

Subkhonjon Bakhromov
Sapienza University, Rome

When the plane landed in Rome and I looked out the window – I saw deep green hills, ancient brick rooftops, and unfamiliar people. I thought to myself, “This is where it all begins.”
With a heavy suitcase in hand and a thousand questions in my head: Will I be able to handle this new life?

The first days were the hardest. For example, when I wanted to take the bus, I didn’t even understand how to get a ticket or how to use it. I later learned that tickets must be bought at a shop or from a machine, not on the bus itself. Once, I even forgot to validate my ticket inside the bus using the small yellow machine. When the driver looked at me, I felt so embarrassed.

The university itself is located in a historical building – high ceilings, old wooden windows, and a sense of the past on every wall. When I entered the library for the first time, the silence was so deep I felt like I could hear my heartbeat. Books were neatly arranged on the shelves, and students were fully focused. No one checked their phones, no one made a sound. At first, this order felt strange, but over time, I began to enjoy learning in such a peaceful environment.

Italian students take their studies very seriously, especially in their field of expertise. They are very active in class and are not shy about expressing opinions.
Besides libraries, small coffee corners on campus are also part of student life. After classes, everyone grabs an espresso or cappuccino and talks about studies, football, or life. Coffee here isn’t just a drink – it’s a form of social connection.

Talking to Italians was difficult at first. They use a lot of hand gestures when they speak and often talk loudly. Initially, I thought, “Are they yelling at me?” But I soon learned it’s just their way – they speak with emotion, openly and vividly. At first, I was surprised, but gradually, I got used to it.
When I enter a store, the seller greets me with a cheerful “Salve!” or “Ciao!”, and when I leave, they say “Buona giornata!” – “Have a good day.” At first, this friendliness felt like a formality, but over time, I saw sincerity in their eyes.

Rome is not just a city – it’s a living museum. Morning sunlight rising through the mist around the Colosseum, flowers hanging from ancient windows along cobbled streets, street musicians playing in front of the Pantheon in the evening... Every corner breathes history and beauty.

The food is true art: real pasta stands out with its simplicity, and margherita pizza may look basic, but every bite carries the taste of Italy. Every day – fresh bread, fresh cheese, olive oil, and of course, gelato – you don’t just see Italy, you taste it.

I still miss my home, my family, and my friends. But it is precisely this longing, this experience of living in a new environment, that is making me stronger. Culture shock can be painful, but it helps you grow and broadens your perspective. And along this journey, you start to see both yourself and the world differently.

    Mukhammadali Tukhliboev
Asia Pacific University (APU), Malaysia

When I first stepped out of the plane in Malaysia, it felt like I had landed on another planet. Everything around me was so unfamiliar that even the simplest things amazed me — the thick, humid air, the smiling strangers speaking a language I barely understood. It was my first real immersion into another world, and it was both exciting and terrifying.

The first week felt like a dream. I got lost in supermarkets, confused bus routes, didn’t know when to say hello or just smile. Even the food — so spicy and fragrant — gave me cultural shock instead of appetite at first. I missed home, my mom’s voice in the kitchen, the smell of familiar streets. Sometimes, I thought I wouldn't make it.

But with each passing day, I started to notice something different. People here are incredibly kind. Once, a stranger walked me all the way to campus when he saw I was lost. Local students immediately offered help with my studies — one even explained how to properly eat durian, which was funny and horrible at the same time.

I found friends. Real ones. From Malaysia, Indonesia, Egypt, Pakistan, Iran — and we learned not just academics, but each other’s cultures. We sat on the floor and ate with our hands like it’s done here, watched sunsets from the hills, shared our dreams and fears, discussed religion, freedom, family. I realized this experience was more than just studying. It was growing up, self-discovery, and understanding.

I visited all kinds of places. I hiked the Cameron Highlands, wandered through Penang’s night market, took a boat in Langkawi, watched the sunrise by the Petronas Towers, and lost track of time on tropical beaches. Malaysia showed me more beauty than I ever imagined seeing in one lifetime.

Now, when people ask me, “How’s life abroad?” I no longer say, “It’s hard.” I say, “Life is changing — and so am I.” Yes, I still miss home. But now I know I can be myself even far from everything I once knew. And most importantly — I know I am not alone.