My first month in Melbourne

Four weeks ago I landed in Melbourne with two suitcases, a rice cooker and a lot of confidence. My IELTS score was good, and I thought the language would be easy. Then I went to my first tutorial, and nobody seemed to speak the English I'd studied. They spoke fast, swallowed half the words and laughed at jokes I couldn't follow.

The biggest surprise was how the lecturers behave. In Hanoi, I called my teachers thầy and cô and never questioned them in class. Here everyone uses first names, and students argue with the lecturer in front of everybody. The first time a classmate said, "I don't agree with that," I held my breath. The lecturer just smiled and asked her to explain.

Group work was the next challenge. I'm used to listening first and speaking only when I'm sure. In my group, the others talk over each other, and by the time I've prepared my sentence, the topic has changed. My tutor gently told me that a half-right idea said out loud is worth more than a perfect one in my head. I'm trying to take that advice.

Daily life has been easier than I feared. I found a shared house with three other students, and we've worked out a cooking rota. My Brazilian housemate, Caio, tried my mother's recipe for braised fish and asked for seconds. A Thai student at the market helped me find fish sauce, which was not where I expected it to be.

Still, there are bad days. Last Sunday I felt so homesick that I phoned my mother at midnight, and she told me to eat something warm and go to sleep. The time difference is only a few hours, but it feels like more. I've learned to keep busy at weekends, and I've joined a walking club that meets by the river.

I'm not claiming that I've adapted. I still say sorry too quietly, and I still don't understand half the slang. Even so, something has changed. Yesterday a stranger on the tram asked me for directions, and I answered without thinking. I'll count that as a small win.