“Have a good life, everyone,” that’s what our facilitator said at the end of our last Soliya session.. At that moment, I realized that I was actually going to miss these people. I joked to myself that maybe I have attachment issues, but the truth is that I genuinely loved the connect program and enjoyed every session of it. Over the past five weeks, attending these sessions became. There is a huge difference between our first week and our last. We started as strangers from different spots in the world, unsure of what to expect, but we ended up as a family. By the end, we became the facilitators; we were the ones asking the questions, driving the conversation, and taking ownership of the dialogue. It was an adorable experience to see how we jumped from awkward silence to being completely comfortable with each other.

As an international student, I am somewhat used to meeting new people, but this experience was unique. The facilitators gave us the space to discuss global issues that are indeed important. For our final project, my peer from Morocco and I suggested the topic of immigration because it impacts our region heavily. This wasn’t just a random topic; it was personal. Immigration continues to strain the lives and hopes of people in both Tunisia and Morocco. To explore this, I conducted three interviews with a specific question in mind: “Is immigration a good thing for a country? Why or why not?”

The process of gathering these perspectives made me know how complex the definition of “home” really is. I started by interviewing Youcef (from Algeria) and Jad (from Palestine), who are both studying with me here at the AUC. Youcef’s perspective was optimistic; he spoke about how immigration allows for cultural exchange and personal growth. For him, Egypt has become a “second home.” However, my interview with Jad introduced a more difficult reality. While he agreed that immigration brings opportunities, he said that for many, like those from Palestine, leaving is often a necessity due to conflict rather than a simple choice. He spoke about the pain of feeling “in between” cultures, so he is safe in Egypt, but always longing for his home.

To get a complete picture, I reached out to Dhiya, a friend of mine who chose to stay in Tunisia even though he had opportunities to go abroad. His answer challenged the group’s thinking. He argued that by staying, he contributes directly to his own community’s development. So what if immigration isn’t really about economics at all? That was my takeaway from the interviews; it’s related to identity, safety, and a sense of belonging. When I brought these diverse viewpoints back to our session, it sparked a deep discussion about whether we define “home” by geography or by the people we love.

Beyond the academic discussions, the program allowed for profound personal connection. One of the most memorable moments for me happened when our facilitator asked a very unique question: “What is a song, movie, or book that touches you when you listen to it or reminds you of how proud you are of yourself?” I believe there is no way I would have been asked this question in any other situation. I didn’t even need two minutes to think; I knew my answer immediately. I shared my story about the song “Oblivion” by M83. I told the group about a memory I hold dear: I was listening to this song, meditating, and imagining myself receiving the acceptance to a highly competitive scholarship that I applied to, to study abroad. I was manifesting it. Miraculously, at the exact moment I was thinking about it and listening to that song, I received the acceptance email. That email changed my life and brought me here to Egypt. Soliya gave me the safe space to share this personal, emotional memory that I usually keep to myself, and I was so grateful for the chance to express those feelings and more grateful to my peers who didn’t just listen to what I said, they asked me related questions and I felt they were actually interested in what I was saying and they were not just waiting for me to finish.

Participating in soliya taught me that despite our different backgrounds, we share many of the same fears, dreams, and human experiences. I loved how the facilitators gave us the chance to discuss topics I never usually get to bring up, from deep questions about stereotypes and inequality to sharing our proudest personal memories. We learned to listen more than to speak. Hearing “Have a good life” at the end was sad, but it was a reminder of the bond we built in a short time. I am grateful for the listening skills I gained and the friends I made. And if I ever get the chance to experience something like this again, I’ll take it in a heartbeat. Because now I know: the world is big, but connection makes it feel a little more like home.