EP 13. 《Exchange Diary: Integrating into Local Life》

EP 13. 《Exchange Diary: Integrating into Local Life》

Brno, Czechia
#Brno #Exchange #Central-Europe #Volleyball
In Czechia, traditional markers like the Moon Festival and National Day became non-existent symbols. I struggled to adjust my internal “jet lag”, constantly pushing myself out of my comfort zone—joining the ESN student organization, diving into boat and tram parties, and competing in sports. From refereeing football matches to photographing the Tram Party, I slowly carved out a place for myself in Brno. I even joined a local Czech volleyball class and made many local friends. I once believed that language was the only bridge for communication, but in those classrooms where I understood no Czech, I rediscovered the pure joy of simply observing the world.

Social Trials: Forcing My Way Out of the Comfort Zone

Arriving in the new environment of Brno, everything felt so vivid that I felt compelled to experience it all, even if it pushed against my natural inclinations. To break out of my comfort zone, I joined ESN (Erasmus Student Network). Rooftop BBQs, bar socials, and tipsy Boat Parties in sub-zero temperatures—these bustling social scenes were once “forbidden zones” for me. Now, I found myself breaking through these barriers time and again. While the experiences were fresh and exciting, each one systematically drained my social battery.

As time and space shifted, my “jet lag” seemed to persist. While I stayed in touch with my circles in Taiwan, back in Czechia, traditional holidays like Moon Festival and National Day simply ceased to exist. On my birthday, I had the opportunity to referee an exchange student football match. Standing in the freezing rain, watching the players sprint across the pitch, I felt a quiet sense of relief to be there as a referee. Had I been playing in such low temperatures, I likely would have reverted to the “battle-scarred” version of myself from Taiwan. Later, I served as the captain of our exchange student volleyball team. Our squad was a mosaic of souls from Australia, Serbia, India, France, and beyond. Though most had no formal training, their natural intuition and chemistry led us to eventually claim the championship in the tri-university league.

Hezky Beyond Language: Joining a Czech Volleyball Class

Compared to the grand scale of international social events, I found a purer joy in my university volleyball class. With the instructor and students being almost entirely Czech, the room full of a foreign language acted as a sort of protective layer for me. In that class, I met Teraza, a powerful and composed player with exceptional skills. We crossed paths thanks to the local “door-holding culture.” Teraza is a first-year Landscape Architecture student from Krnov, a small town in northern Czechia. Having worked in hotel restaurants since she was fifteen, her English was remarkably fluent.

She taught me two essential Czech words: “Hezky” (Nice shot) and “Mám” (Mine). On the court, these were the only two words I could speak in Czech, yet I was accustomed to communicating through body language and eye contact. In that space, the “ball” became our shared language. On our commutes home, we’d catch the same Line 12 tram and talk about our origins. A traveler from distant Taiwan and a local girl from a Czech small town found common ground, deconstructing our past experiences and rebuilding them through dialogue. Those moments became the highlight of my week. Though she couldn’t always make it to the Thursday afternoon class due to her work back home, it remained one of my most cherished memories of the semester.

In that classroom where I understood nothing of the spoken language, I learned to understand the world by observing expressions and movements, which gave me an unprecedented sense of ease. I used to think that without a shared language, deep conversation was impossible, but my Norwegian roommate Solvei and Teraza shattered that notion. When I stopped relying on words and instead used gestures, expressions, and shared life experiences, I began to find conversations that truly resonated on a deeper, more intuitive level.

The Perfect Margin: A Viewfinder in the Tram Party

Toward the middle and end of the semester, I looked forward to the most anticipated event: the Tram Party. Hundreds of students from three universities packed into three trams, winding through the streets of Brno. People danced, sang, and drank, hopping between cars at every stop. When the trams paused, everyone would spill out to find a spot to “let loose”—an absurdly hilarious sight. I couldn’t help but wonder what the local pedestrians and drivers thought of this chaotic, roaming spectacle.

Interestingly, this time I wasn’t just a participant; I was the photographer. It was my first time taking on this role. From the preparation stage of hand-cutting decorations and hauling equipment to the party itself, where I navigated the swaying carriages to capture fleeting moments, I discovered that this “marginal” role made me incredibly comfortable. I still loved that feeling of constant motion.

The viewfinder became my buffer against the world, allowing me to blend into the thrill of the movement as a chronicler. Before that night, I only had a basic grasp of photography, but as I moved along the edges of the crowd, I realized that at the moment the shutter clicked, I had found my own place—the most comfortable “spot of drifting” for a traveler like me.

Categories: Life