Confessions of a Freshman in a Foreign Land

Upon landing in California, an eighteen-year-old from Mumbai is prepared to be Mr. Popular. But he quickly learns that he's cared about all the wrong things.

Illustrations by Luke Howard

After a month, I drop out of Mumbai University. There is no particular reason, more of an aimless slide. Having told my parents that I’d try India before deciding about going abroad, I now accept an offer from Claremont McKenna—an American College comprised of words I mispronounce, the ‘Mck’ coming out as the ‘muck’ of muck and slime, rather than the ‘mec’ of McDonalds. The fee transfer is a family event. The four of us walk to the bank, each clutching assigned documents. Fifty thousand dollars—a sum so new, so gigantic, that the clerk who processes the transaction and I both roll our eyes. Once it’s paid, Claremont begins sending me emails: housing form, dining form, health form, orientation package. I reply vaguely, and then go about preparations in a daze, as if buying clothes and packing suitcases for someone else.

Then there is the matter of goodbyes. I am expected to throw a farewell party, and I do. The formality done, I provide my friends with a fals…