We all know how incredibly lucky we are to be here. The quality of Yale’s facilities, classes, opportunities, and (most) students make it one of the best universities in the world. Why is it, therefore, that everyone I’ve talked to who has left to go abroad says that it’s one of the best decisions they’ve made since coming here?

When you go into the Study Abroad Office or hear about someone’s friend’s experience, you’re bound to get the generic “amazing time” descriptions that fill the pages of travel brochures. Those are all true, believe me. And yet what’s missing are the details that express how grounding, clarifying, maturing, and liberating the experience really is. Obviously, study abroad isn’t for everyone: Those who are somehow completely satisfied by Yale or who have insurmountable major requirements may find it hard to part with or escape this place. But for those who truly want to immerse themselves in an environment and experience that will allow them to delve deep into who they are and what they want to become, the best thing to do is leave for a semester or a year.

I’ve had discussions with many of my friends who were away last year, in places as diverse as Egypt, China, England, Jordan, South Africa, France, and Australia. Each person embodies the story of breathing fresh air (even in smog-ridden Beijing), of finding one’s character anew, of refining values, and developing novel passions and interests. These changes begin as soon as you step out of the airport into a new city and country. After the momentary shock accompanying the realization that you’re thousands of miles from home, and will be for the next five months or more, you can take in the surroundings and the cultural differences they convey. New dress, language, manners, speech, smell, and demeanor surround you as you walk around admiring or bemoaning the unexpected architecture, noise, food, and atmosphere. It’s only as you peel away the layers that you really get into what’s important—the different cultural consciousness expressed in a unique set of values, thought processes, and ways of life. And as this mixture of national identity swirls around your own consciousness, you collect and discard at your discretion—adopting components that align with your own beliefs, understanding and tolerating those that are different but valid, and eschewing those that further hate and greed.

I spent my spring semester last year in Sydney, Australia, enjoying sunny Bondi and Coogee beaches (working on my tan) as snow fell in New Haven. I celebrated ANZAC Day and cheered the Sydney Swans while sipping Toohey’s New and Yellowtail. I strolled around Darling Harbour, pet kangaroos, and swam among coral and rainbow-colored fish in the Great Barrier Reef. I saw concerts in the Sydney Opera House, drove the Great Ocean Road, and biked across the Harbour Bridge. I returned with rich memories of places and activities I’d thought I could only ever experience through postcards and travel books.

My freshman year, I was afraid of leaving for some reason, afraid of missing out on time with friends and section assholes. Many think the opportunity cost of leaving is too high. In fact, the exact opposite is true. With studying abroad comes the chance to gain the broader perspective that’s hard to obtain at Yale. The point isn’t to impose Yale’s prestige and influence on other settings; it’s to learn from local students and try interesting things so that when you come back, you can positively affect your friends’ way of thinking and have a better idea of who you are.

My favorite class at Sydney University was Australian Social Policy, a lecture with a professor who ran his own tutorials, or as we call them, sections. I listened to him speak about the Australian welfare state and all the good it does for the disadvantaged despite its problems. I loved taking the class because it proved that a government can be successful and compassionate, and that unfettered capitalism isn’t necessarily the only way to go. We read Marx without first assuming he was a nutcase. I talked to classmates who were interested in becoming social workers about their experiences working with underprivileged citizens. At Yale, it becomes so easy to get caught up in the few professions that are heavily touted—medicine, law, and especially finance—that it was refreshing to be around people who care so deeply about something that has such a small voice here. I didn’t feel any pressure to flaunt my knowledge in class: I was there to learn for my own sake and had a genuine desire to do so, without the baggage of expectations.

Even with its flaws, Yale has been the place where I’ve made my best friends and gained the most knowledge about my interests and myself. But I’d be delusional to think that the Yale bubble imparts sufficient real understanding. What happens on campus often assumes an exaggerated importance; writing papers, taking exams and pulling the occasional all-nighter are necessary to do well here, but they are so far removed from the real world, its problems, and our interactions with its people. College is the perfect time to go and explore new cultures and countries while you’re still mobile, underdeveloped, and curious. Leave with an open mind and come back with a wealth of experiences and a greater understanding of life. So what if you miss Spring Fling, a couple frat parties, or the mild New Haven winter? You’ll have no regrets.

Christopher Lin-Brande is a senior in Ezra Stiles.