“Hello, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome on-board on behalf of Air France. I would like to remind you that this is a non-smoking flight and that masks must be worn at all times to prevent the spread of COVID-19. We thank you all for your cooperation.”
Those were the words I heard as I left Madagascar for Canada to begin my university studies at Mt. A. Alongside me were my two younger brothers, my mom, and my dad — each of us wearing face masks, plastic gloves, and face shields. As you can probably guess, this was during the COVID-19 pandemic — specifically, July 28, 2020. On this date, we were embarking on a new chapter of our lives. I was leaving to start university in Sackville, while my mom and brothers were beginning their lives in Ottawa, Ontario, my dad was relocating to Senegal.
During the pandemic, questions like “Can I see your COVID vaccine?” and “Where are your masks?” were everywhere. Any coughing or sneezing could earn you death stares and clear an entire room out of fear. After we landed in Ottawa and arrived at our apartment, I began the first of three quarantine periods I would face during my first academic year. Once I finished the initial quarantine, I just had three days to get everything ready before heading to Sackville, New Brunswick. Students coming from outside the Atlantic Bubble, like myself from Ontario, had to arrive two weeks before classes began in order to fully quarantine. On August 13, I traveled to Moncton, where a bus took us to Sackville. When we finally arrived in town, the bus stopped at each Mt. A residence to drop students off. As Bigelow House was my residence, I was let off there.Upon my arrival I was greeted by the Bigelow Don and a couple of RAs. I had arrived with my backpack along with the rest of my luggage.,When I started unloading my three enormous bags, overwhelmed with my belongings, I noticed the Don glancing at me sympathetically. “I wish I could help you,” she said, “but because of COVID, I can not.”
That was my first major culture shock. Having lived across Africa, I was accustomed to people rushing over to help with my luggage (albeit for a small fee, usually no more than a dollar). Here in Sackville, however, I had to haul everything by myself, back and forth from the bus to my dorm. Once I entered my residence, I found that my key card did not work. I asked around and was directed to the Civic Center, where people were getting their cards fixed and their vaccinations. It was a warm August day and as I walked down the road from Bigelow I took in my new surroundings. Finally, when I arrived at the Civic Center reception, I introduced myself and explained, “ I just arrived [in Sackville]. However, I am having trouble entering my room —” Before I could finish, the receptionist’s eyes widened, and he asked, “have you quarantined yet?” “No, this is my first day here,” I replied. His eyes grew even larger and he looked at me as if he had seen a ghost. “You know you are not allowed to be here, right?” he said. “I just came to fix my card because it wasn’t working—” I began to explain, but he cut me off, telling me to go back to my residence. “You can not be walking around outside without being quarantined. I will arrange for someone to take you back so you can sort out your card from there.”
Back in my room, I found a letter welcoming me to Mt. A , with various contact information, instructions on ordering food from Jennings, and details about our ‘outdoor’ time that was allowed during the two-week quarantine. During the designated outdoor time, we were allowed to go outdoors for fresh air for only one hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon. During that hour, we had to remain in front of Bigelow, within sight of the ESS staff. It was a very odd experience. Whenever I went outside, I could not help but notice I was the only person of colour, and because of this I did not initially relate to others in my residence. Sometimes, I would even skip the outdoor hours because of this feeling.
On my first day out of my second quarantine, I finally met up with a friend I had connected with online during our International Orientation (IO). All the international students had been divided into small groups with facilitators and we held daily virtual meetings and activities. My friend and I decided to grab some food at Jennings. When we walked into the dining hall we saw that once again we were the only people of colour there. The tables were spaced two meters apart with only two people allowed per in accordance with COVID protocol. As we settled in and began eating, another Black student appeared at the top of the Jennings stairs. He looked around — just as we had — and noticed we were the only Black people in the room. He came over and asked if he could join our meal and we agreed. He told us that a few others were planning to play soccer later that afternoon at Alumni Field and invited us to join them. As I am never one to miss a chance to play soccer, I happily agreed.
Walking down toward Alumni Field, I felt both excited and nervous, unsure of what to expect. To my surprise, as I approached the field, I saw a diverse group of various ethnicities, people from Asia, Africa, the Middle East and South America — at least 20 people in the group, all playing soccer. For the first time at Mt. A, I felt as if I could truly connect with people on a personal level and I saw a glimpse of the diversity I was used to seeing back home. We played games all afternoon, even missing dinner at Jennings, which ended service at 6 p.m. Afterward, an upper-year student introduced us to Goya’s and suggested we explore Sackville’s downtown. Initially, I was excited, but that feeling quickly disappeared when I arrived and saw the deserted streets — nothing like the bustling roads of Antananarivo or any other place I had lived before.
Five years after my freshman orientation, these memories still resonate with me as I reflect back. The quiet streets of Sackville contrasted starkly with the lively avenues of Antananarivo, yet they offered a new kind of community. One shaped by many challenges but also welcoming with open arms. Adjusting to life in Canada during a pandemic taught me and so many other international students arriving in Sackville about resilience. Especially the power of forging connections with peers and going beyond our comfort zones. Even as the world grappled with COVID-19, finding other Black students and experiencing moments of cultural familiarity reminded me that, no matter where life takes us, we can build a sense of belonging through shared experiences and open hearts.
