Mululu and I arrived on campus. We were escorted by a police car. He was on the back seat. No, we hadn’t done anything wrong on our first day in the US. We simply got lost and the officer offered to take us to our dorms, which turned out to be a walking distance from one another. There was campus police, and they were willing to help us. And they were friendly.
I had not even seen pictures of the campus until that moment. I was staying in Morgan, one of the newly built dorms. I entered the wedge with my two suitcases, and people held doors for me — I felt as if I was a prince! I took the elevator to the 3rd floor. The brothers from the Alpha Chi Rho fraternity helped me carry my suitcases.
As I walked into the hall, I saw cartoon characters on every door with the names of the residents underneath them. I could not understand this. I thought this was childish. Later, after the international orientation, our Community Advisor gathered all of the residents on the floor, all guys, to mix and mingle. We had to do icebreakers to get to know each other; we formed a circle and each of us had to do something, the others had to reproduce it, and the next one had to do something else. I thought this was immature!
I did not need an icebreaker to make friends! Then, as the year progressed, the Resident Advisors organized a “war” between the two wings of the floor: my peers were using nerf guns, toy grenades, they even dressed themselves up in uniforms. This was such a culture shock for me! I was wondering if I was surrounded by 18-year-olds or 12-year-olds?