CHENNAI: On April 8, Paris registered the death of an Indian student. Yet, it was not coronavirus that laid claim to his life. Being locked down, we are finding out that some are more affected, more overwhelmed than others. Barely emerging out of this vast and varied group of people in need are Indian students finding themselves in foreign territory during this crisis.
A time of distress
A Parisian daily reported that the 23-year-old student had killed himself by falling from the balcony of his apartment. The police report claimed that he had been anxious and depressed. Other students report similar conditions. Raghu, who studies at a premier management school in Paris, has been desperately looking to return home. And there are at least 200 students like him, signing up forms for the first flight out of the country. “We are panicking, scared and tensed. They have shut down the borders. We are willing to go through quarantine for however long it is required.
It would be better to die in India than in France,” he declares. Without the part-time job at the burger shop near his house, one that had covered his day-to-day expenses, Raghu has been struggling to pay rent and afford food. He has been surviving on eggs, bread and chicken all through the lockdown; buying any other essentials requires a two-hour journey in public transport in a country where the crisis is worsening. Harkishan* has similar financial woes. Having landed in Paris only in March, he barely had enough time to prepare for life in the big city, let alone the lockdown. Even as he sustains himself on money borrowed from friends, he has the mounting loan payments weighing on his mind. Meanwhile, landlords have been kind, he says. “My landlord said that I did not have to pay rent for one month. That period has come and gone. But his family too might need the money,” he points out.
All for one
While time seems to be running out on good gestures and general kindness, Indians In France (IIF) — the largest community for Indians in the country — has been trying to pitch in and lend a helping hand. For starters, its creator Sourav Choudhury has been working on making two lists — one for students who want to get back to India and the other for those in need of monetary assistance. “If I can find one flight to take them home, it would be of great help for the students.
There is a risk of infection in the process. Yet, with no assurance that the lockdown will end in a month, not all of them can afford to continue living here. These are students who come here on educational loans,” said Sourav. He’s been in touch with the Indian embassy in France and members of the External Affairs Ministry here to arrange for an airlift for students trying to return home, and donations from the Prime Minister’s fund to aid the ones left behind. “They do not have the means to sustain themselves without a job.
Most of their jobs are undocumented and underpaid. Hence, they would not be eligible for whatever relief the government might offer. Without the job, there is simply no money for food and rent,” he says. While the plans for evacuation and relief still remain in the realm of negotiations and future possibilities, the community has stepped up to do what little they can. “We have started collecting funds from the community, which will be used to distribute food to whoever we can reach. Besides this, individuals continue to help the students around them,” he explains. For people of the community, coming together is not new. IIF’s 32,000 members have used Facebook to rally support for many a cause back home. Even for them, seeking help in the face of this pandemic would fall under the label of ‘unprecedented’. In the meantime, these students, like many of our migrant workers here, have to wait for relief and hope.
Money matters
Germany is celebrated as an affordable place in the arena of education. In the face of a pandemic, however, not much has changed for students with little means, it seems. Ask Sanjay* and he breaks down the economics of living in Dresden, Germany, as a loan-sponsored student. “Rent and insurance is a big deal for non-residents. I pay nearly 450 Euros per month while not having a job. If I were to default on the rent payment, I’ll get a warning mail; failure to respond to it will automatically result in a legal battle at the cost of money we do not have. So, everyone somehow coughs up the money for rent,” he explains, detailing the usual system of rent payment. With the lockdown taking away his part-time job and rent being nonnegotiable, Sanjay is forced to compromise on food. His sustenance has been solely made up of bread, apples and water. He’d have to travel 40 miles to get groceries, spending on the commute and the groceries itself in the meantime. The university has rid itself of any responsibility and asked the students to reach out to the embassy. His part of Germany does not get the same attention as cities like Berlin and Munnich do, he says.
What money can’t buy
Sanjay is worried too but for very different reasons. “All friends and family have to offer is money but what can I do with it? Their next best solution is buying me tickets to come home. When all borders have been closed, my wife plans my travel — all the way from Dresden to Berlin, then to New Delhi, then to Chennai and all the way home to Coimbatore; that none of this is possible for at least another month does nothing to stop her,” he recounts with great distress. The family, perhaps, has been nurturing the hope of bringing him home because he came so close to it just before India went into lockdown mode. On March 18, he and a friend had purchased tickets for the long way home — train to Berlin, flight to Netherlands, then to New Delhi, then Chennai. Yet, they were stopped from boarding the plane at the Berlin airport over luggage guideline issues. Not only did he lose the `65,000 he spent on tickets and has had to put up with a disturbing dearth of food and peace, he has had to keep his folks reassured too. “All I need now is someone to talk to. I’m locked in the house without any resources, I haven’t had food in two days, there’s the army outside to discourage violations; that’s a lot to deal with,” he narrates.
Better to have had a job and lost it
While many students abroad have had to lose their jobs since the shutdown, R Achshaya Lakshmi has been extremely worried about the fact that she didn’t have enough time to get a job since she got to New Zealand. “It had hardly been a month since I got to Auckland University of Technology and the world fell apart. I couldn’t dedicate time to finding a job before the quarantine. My two roommates worked for KFC for about four months and so they get paid their weekly wages. I, on the other hand, with no job and no flow of cash have to contribute as much as they do for rent and food. We have a system with my bank that lets it disburse cash as and when necessary. The last transaction was to cover living expenses for three months. As I shifted from one apartment to another, had to pay a deposit at the new place and I’m yet to receive the deposit from the old one. I have almost exhausted the entire amount. I might have to reach out to the bank for another disbursement. Even if my bank provides, I still am in a situation where I have spent much more than I anticipated. Now, the very thought that I have to keep spending my loan amount for even basic everyday needs is a nightmare,” she narrates.
In the grace of good Samaritans
Even as world powers are struggling in the face of the crisis, general goodwill has kept students going. For Renuka Venkataramana, it came from the University of Dayton, Ohio, where she pursues her Masters in Computer Science. Her college shut down on March 7, but faculty members continue to be available through e-mails and Zoom meetings. It went beyond ensuring that the students’ education was covered. “Our college created a crisis fund to provide free benefits to students and anyone who is part of the university. Those who have signed up for it get $50 worth grocery card, food once a week (fruits, vegetables, cooked local food, cereal, chips, etc.),” she narrates. In Canada, the government has been leading by example, points out Vaishak Pandian.
“The federal and provincial governments are doing an excellent job. The Canada Emergency Response Benefit (CERB) offers $2,000 a month for four months to anyone who has lost their job due to the coronavirus; does not matter if you’re a student or their citizen. The process is also streamlined. You call the response number, you give consent to a few terms and conditions and fill some forms; in a few days, you’ll have the money in your account. It is as simple as that. It is much easier if you’ve already paid taxes,” he explains. For Vaishak, who had lost his job as a student assistant at his university, this is great news. His landlord too has been very kind, he says. “He has gone easy on the rent for this month. Most landlords have offered concessions too,” he adds. Down under in Australia, Chandini K says that it was her university — University of Sydney — that stepped up even when the governments back home stayed mum.
“Even when the Prime Minister went against helping international students, our university said it will stand by us for financial and emotional support. They’ve also considered partially refunding our fee for the semester,” she notes. Not far from there, the University of Queensland, Brisbane, has measures of its own in place, reports Sushma P, an architecture student. “Our university has given hardship hampers comprising protein bars, food and toilet paper which helped us for a week. They have programmes to counsel those in need,” she says. Despite the timely show of goodness, these students have much to face on the other side of the lockdown. Their financial woes are not going to disappear in a few days, parttime jobs (for those dependent on it) are going to be hard to come by, loan dues are going to continue looming over their heads, and not to mention, all the stress that comes with recovering from the trauma they have had to endure with hunger, hardship and isolation. Yet, many are hopeful of better climes — be it reuniting with their families or returning to the ‘old normal’. Perhaps that’s all we can hope for.
An education lost?
Amid the many anxieties that students have had to deal with during the lockdown, missing out on quality education that they went to great lengths to sign up is perhaps the biggest of them all. “Although
online classes keep us busy, my anxiety levels have shot up. Our motive in coming here (Australia) was to gain experience but studying behind shut doors is of no help. Right now, my education is going down
the drains because of these mundane online classes; this, despite having invested so much money. I’m juggling multiple issues without anybody by my side. As international students, we’re already battling many problems, this has only added to the misery,” explains Chandini K. For R Achshaya Lakshmi, the worst-case scenario would be that she spends half her one-year course taking online lessons. “I might as well have stayed in India. I ended up spending lakhs and putting myself through the agony of living away from my husband and family to attend online courses. If the world gets kind enough to provide me with a partial refund and means to go back to India and continue my course, I would so return immediately,” she says.
Help from back home
National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences have announced that they will be happy to help any student reaching out to them from any part of the world, in whatever language they can easily
provide. Call: 080 46110007
(With inputs from Vaishali Vijaykumar) *Names changed on request.