Is the grass always greener on the other side?

By Sujit Sivasundaram

Jumpers, anoraks, coats, duvets and thermal un- derwear- these are some of the strange and alien articles that become common currency for those adventurous Sri Lankan students who decide to study abroad. According to the United States Education Advisor in Colombo approximately 2000 Sri Lankans are in the United States at any one time for higher education; and the British High Commission told The Sunday Times that during 1997, 647 new Sri Lankan applicants were granted student visas to enter that country. The extent of this exodus seems high when related to the cost of such an overseas degree. In the case of Britain, undergraduate students are expected to fork out up to twelve thousand pounds on tuition and maintenance a year; whilst for the United States the fee ranges from ten thousand dollars to thirty thousand dollars annually.

Surprised by these figures? They do speak of the fact that a foreign degree is seen as priceless by a segment of the population. Is this an accurate impression? What motivates students to opt for a foreign education? Is the grass as green as it is made out for them when they first arrive in their universities and then when they graduate?

From the selection of students I spoke to I learnt that the most important people in making them decide to study abroad were either their parents or themselves. One student said, "I always knew that I wanted to study abroad. My parents had told me that I would." Another said that her personal determination had seen the fulfilment of this dream. Probing deeper, it appeared that our overseas travellers grow up in an environment that expects and promotes their study abroad. It is an aspiration with which they have lived for many years. One student said, "My mother recorded all my achievements from my childhood so that she would have the necessary information for the demanding American university application forms."

In addition to parental and self induced pressure, a section of the group, reported that they had been frustrated by the education system in this country. One said "I couldn't get into the course of my choice in Colombo and the modernised education system abroad appealed to me." Further, he added, "My parents thought that my education would be continuous if I went overseas." This surely is a weighty indictment of our own universities. If indeed, there is 'brain-drain' and these talented individuals leave our country forever, then comments such as this suggest that some part of the blame must lie at the doorstep of the educational establishment; a point that should be borne in mind in the current debates around university reforms.

When they landed on foreign shores some students experienced some hiccups. They missed their Sri Lankan food and contrary to the hype of Western drama on television they found that the inhabitants of the countries they were studying in were less than friendly. "Londoners take a long time to warm to strange international students," said one. Whilst another bemoaned: "I found them boring because their interests didn't coincide with his own." Many reported that though the locals were always willing to say 'hello' and smile when they passed on the street their friendship would never reach beyond this. It was friendship at a hand's distance.

The interaction between Sri Lankan and local students at universities abroad emerges as a complex issue. In Britain, when both categories of students find themselves away from home in an environment where they need to make friends fast it is natural that they gravitate towards those who are most like themselves. This makes the British appear reserved and restricts Sri Lankan students to circles that are predominantly Asian and international. As stated, "It is easier to make friends with international students when you already have something in common with them." Thus the apparent 'unfriendliness' of locals may come down to social factors.

At this point the amusing experience that one Sri Lankan student had with a Welsh fresher is pertinent. He found it impossible to understand her thick accent and decided to follow the policy of nodding his head, saying 'Yes' and adding a chuckle just in case it was funny. A few months later when the two had become close friends she confessed that she had the same problems with his accent. Thus it is anyone's guess what they were talking about during Freshers week! This encapsulates the tenet that the ideal melting pot is seldom achieved in universities abroad when insecure students first arrive from different backgrounds. In such a context questions such as "Where is Sri Lanka?" and "Do you live in regular houses?" are not uncommon and should not be treated with scorn. For they are just as justified as "Aney, I can't eat that Western food!"

More seriously, those interviewed had no significant instances of racism to report. Some were quick to suggest that this was dependent on where the university was located. An inner city area was more likely to be more cosmopolitan, but additionally low employment levels could make such a location abound with a racist mentality. Similarly, racism could raise its head in an all white area where coloured people are seldom seen.

More contentious was the whole issue of working rights. Britain for instance insists that no foreign student works in the country on a normal visa without prior permission from the Home Office. This permission is hard to come by as it requires an employer to give a guarantee that no native student can be employed for the same job that they wish to offer the foreign student. When Sri Lankans find themselves abroad fighting to meet the costs of their courses this restriction is a hard one to face.

Confronted with these cultural, social and legal barriers I asked whether they thought that their experience abroad was still a worthwhile one. Had they received a degree that they could not have gained in this country? Had the qualification opened doors for them in the Sri Lankan employment market that wouldn't have opened without the gloss of a foreign label?

The majority of them answered positively to these questions; replying that their foreign qualifications were more marketable than their Sri Lankan equivalents. One said, "The degree is technically the same, but it is a brand name that I wouldn't have been able to get elsewhere." Some also spoke of their greater fluency in English; a pre-requisite for a well paid job that is not guaranteed by a local degree. The exception to this rule, however, were those students in areas such as medicine who require a Sri Lankan professional qualification before accreditation.

Reassuringly for the country, almost all said that they were bent on returning once they completed their overseas education. However, it was clear that this was not always an easy option. For, some students spoke of difficulties re-adjusting to the Sri Lankan work ethic and culture once horizons had been broadened. Being used to trains arriving on time and people sticking to their deadlines, they had to come to terms with the need to keep pushing people before a job was done. One said, "I see Sri Lanka in a different light now that I have studied abroad. There are substantial cultural differences." This student went on to comment that he felt less Sri Lankan now that he had studied overseas. Another said, "I feel that I have learnt a great deal from studying abroad, but every time I come back home I cannot relate to those I left behind. They seemed to have remained static and expect me to be the same as I was before I left."

In all it appears then that the grass is definitely greener for those who study abroad; but perhaps not as green as it is sometimes made out to be. For Sri Lankans who leave for university overseas find themselves in socially and culturally unfamiliar situations. When they return some of them face some form of reverse culture shock. These observations do not take away in any form from the conclusion that Sri Lankans educated overseas return as rounded individuals received with open arms by most Sri Lankan employers; but they are facts that those who take that adventurous step should at least be aware of.

What the educators say

Mrs. Goolbai Gunasekera head of the Asian International School said that her students opt to go overseas for their education because our own universities 'are unhappy places.' The instruction at these places of learning is in the Sinhala medium which necessarily limits reference. Further the method of learning is also far superior abroad. "For the emphasis is no longer on memorising facts but on thinking it out for yourself." "Foreign degrees are not awarded on the basis of regurgitated notes, they require initiative," she added.

Mr. David Saunders, Principal of the Colombo International School which sends a regular quota of students for study overseas, said that a number of different reasons motivate students to go abroad for study. "There is the attraction of continuing their education without a gap between Advanced levels and university entrance which can sometimes be as long as 2 or 3 years in Sri Lanka. Very sadly, the local universities have been closed because of unrest over a period of time and even when students do start their courses there is no guarantee that they will have the opportunity to complete them. Further, the range of courses available is much wider than that offered in this country especially in areas such as economics and management. Also, though it is very true that there are many good Sri Lankan lecturers those abroad often have more research behind them."

Mrs. Elizabeth Moir of the Elizabeth Moir International School echoed these sentiments saying that her students decide to go abroad because "they can go straight away." She also said, re-iterating a point made in the main article, "When they come to a school like ours they have already made up their mind to go abroad."

Mrs. Noreen Welikala head of Stafford International School said that the exposure that a foreign degree gives students is key. Further she agreed with the other interviewees by saying, "The basic reason is that students who study overseas cannot go to university here."

When asked about the difficulties that Sri Lankan students face in settling into universities abroad, Mrs. Moir replied that as far as she was aware "Sri Lankan students are much sought after. They settle in very well." Mrs. Welikala said, "They enjoy their time at university," and Mrs. Gunasekera said they fare 'excellently well and are highly thought of.' Mr. Saunders replying the same question said, that the Colombo International School adopts a policy of 'developing a pride in Sri Lankan culture that is open to new ideas from outside.'

This pride, he hoped, enabled students to adapt well at overseas universities without denouncing their Sri Lankan origins or being at a loss to assimilate new experiences.

Mrs. Welikala was extremely positive about the reception that her students received in Sri Lanka after graduation. "Most of them do come back and fit into middle management. They are very happy in their jobs and are well looked after. There is no reason for discontent." Mrs. Moir said, "They get superb jobs at multi-national firms. Some of them start up their own businesses." Also speaking of employment prospects in Sri Lanka, Mr. Saunders was firm in his assertion that his students are trained to return home. "If our students leave the country after their education abroad then we have failed in our duty." Mrs. Gunasekera showed a similar optimism, "Employers naturally look for foreign exposure because such graduates are forward looking. Further, those without a background in English are unemployable in the private sector and therefore our students are welcomed back."

However one head who wished to remain anonymous said, "Some inward looking smaller firms do present difficulties because of the jealousy factor."

Leaving the nest

By Ayesha R. Rafiq

With the present state of our universities, for many people, going abroad for higher studies is more a necessity than the luxury it once was. Especially for those with London GCE A/L's, since admission to local universities is not possible, very few opportunities are open to them as far as higher education in Sri Lanka is concerned.

But far from being a rational solution, the emotions involved in making such a decision are often more difficult to deal with than the practical or financial constraints. Leaving the warmth of the family circle and stepping out into the world all on your own, especially when that world is totally different to the one you've been used to all your life, can be a daunting prospect even for the most independent of us.

Yearn as you may for freedom, when you are all on your own in a strange room in a strange country, you wish you could hear an often repeated line such as 'be back before midnight,' or 'eat your dinner before it gets cold.'

The students are all excited about the brand new life they are about to lead, and within a month or two feeling homesick is a thing of the past, except for a few brief moments when your room needs tidying or you yearn for some home cooking. But what about the parents? What do they have to look forward to, except for the holidays when you'll be home again, if possible. How do they feel about it?

"Even though the idea really excited me at first, about two weeks before going, I got butterflies in my stomach,' says Michelle Perera, who has been studying in Australia for her architectural degree for the past three years. After having had the same group of friends for so many years, the last thing she wanted to do was make new friends from countries all around the world, she said. For the first two weeks or so she felt really awkward, and she had difficulty understanding the strong Aussie accents. But after a while she found herself speaking the same way and after the initial culture shock, she's made a small but close group of friends. She now loves the country and plans on living and working there.

"I went through mental agony about whether to send her abroad or not. She would get really upset with me when I used to say yes and then change my mind," Michelle's father said. She'd been so 'looked after' all her life, he wasn't sure that she would be able to fend for herself. But then, thinking that it was for her best, he decided on sending her and has since then been amazed at how well she's been managing. "I'm so proud that she's doing so well, and I know I made the right decision." He says he missed her terribly during the first three or four months and his telephone bills seem to be proof enough of it. "Michelle used to save her money to buy expensive clothes and shoes, and used to call collect. For the first few months, even though I could e-mail her, I called her about twice a day, and my phone bills went up to about Rs. 60,000 a month." "But with all her talk of independence, I still get a phone call about once a month, asking me for money," he jokes, while stroking his daughter's hair.

Azmil Kamiss, a 22-year-old who has just completed his first year in a Russian university, says that what he misses most is the home cooking. "When we cook, the place always ends up in a mess. We hardly tidy up. Apart from that, he says the first year was a bit tough, as it consisted of learning the language, as their lectures would be conducted in Russian. He says studying for a degree is tough enough, but when you have to do it in Russian, it makes it all the harder.

But while Azmil worried about his cooking and the tidiness of his kitchen, his mother's feelings were rather different. "Everytime I thought of him, it brought tears to my eyes, because this is the first time he has been away from us ever since he was born. I even told him not to expect any letters from me, because whenever I try to write, my mind is flooded with thoughts of the things he used to say, and I feel depressed the whole day," Mrs. Kamiss says.

Dulee Munidasa, is back in Sri Lanka on vacation from the University of Manchester. She'd never been to the U.K before, but didn't think much of it while applying. "I just thought new country, new experience, that kind of stuff." But about two or three weeks before going she says she got really worried. "I wondered if the English people would all snub me, and whether all my friends would be Asians, but I was totally unprepared for the welcome I got once I went there." The welcoming committee had organised several activities to make them feel at home and to get to know the other students. 'Freshers' week was amazing ," she said.

Reza, who has completed his studies in America, says that it gave him a sense of independence and responsibility. "Once you get there you are too excited to think about home, but after about two weeks, depression sets in. You begin to miss your old friends and wonder if you will ever make good friends over there, but it's only a matter of time before you realise that you're going to have a great time." But, he says, his parents missed him, especially as his sister too was abroad, and they would call all the time to check if they were okay.

Rehana Mohamed has just completed her first year of law school at Cambridge university. "I just love it, I really love it," she told me about six times in a row. Unlike most students her age, she had absolutely no trepidation about going abroad to study. Cambridge has a system of college 'mums' and 'dads', she explained. Two first year students agree to take two freshers who are doing their same subjects under their wing and show them the ropes. As she is now going into her second year, she now has a college 'husband', and the two of them will take on two first year students as their 'son' and 'daughter'. She's already in the college athletic team, gone bungee jumping, acted in a play and got an excellent review, made some really close friends, and above all is maintaining excellent grades.

Her mother, unlike other parents, encouraged her right along. 'College years are the best years of your life, and the only time you can really have a ball," Mrs. Mohamed says. The college is very caring, she says, and she had already gone and checked it out, so she wasn't at all worried. She loves to travel, and had backpacked in Australia when she was younger, so she says she understands how much travelling and university life can contribute to your education. "Of course I miss her, but we e-mail each other very often and I know everything that's going on in her life, and I'm so proud of her," she says of Rehana, with a big smile.

What advice would all these 'old-timers' give to prospective freshers? Just go out there and plunge into university life. Everyone's really friendly and since they're all new, they're all eager to make friends.

And the parents, what do they have to say to those in the same shoes they were in some years ago? They say that there's absolutely no way to get around the initial sadness that the young ones have finally left the nest, but that once they start doing well, and they almost always do, the pride you feel is incomparable, and you know you definitely did the right thing.

So, it would seem that while the initial fear soon wears off for the students, the mums and dads agonise over their decisions long after. But it seems like there's no great need to worry. Out on their own for their first time with virtually unlimited freedom, instead of letting it go to their heads, they seem to gain a very real sense of responsibility and maturity, and gain the experience of a lifetime, which is sure to stand them in good stead for many other experiences that await them.

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