When I packed my bags for a year abroad in Belgium, I thought I was carrying clothes, books, and a sentimental teddy bear (whose name is Osito if you were wondering). What I didn’t realise was that I was also carrying a question: How can I live lightly in a world weighted by environmental urgency?
I saw my year abroad not as a pause from reality, but as a deeper immersion into it – a chance to challenge myself in a new cultural context.
From the moment I arrived in Antwerp, a city woven with cobblestones and green ambition, I embraced the local lifestyle. I swapped public transport for a second-hand bike, affectionally nicknamed “Amai”, a regional slang word meaning wow. Rain or shine, Osito, Amai, and I have travelled countless miles, commuting to class, exploring markets, and discovering the quiet joy of slow travel (aligned with SDG 11: Sustainable Cities and Communities).
Living sustainably abroad has meant adapting to small culture shifts. Belgian beer culture for instance, (I recommend La Chouffe), is softly circular. Bottles are returned, washed, and reused in a system, making recycling part of the social ritual. Weekly food shops are similarly thoughtful. Unlike the shrink-wrapped abundance in supermarkets back home, Belgium offers fresh, unpacked produce, prompting me to buy only what I’ll eat and saviour seasonal ingredients (brussels sprouts in winter can in fact taste good). Through these small everyday choices, sustainability has become a way of living with intention.
Beyond my kitchen, I’ve indulged in the popular Antwerpen practice of a clothes swap once a month to reduce textile waste (and align with SDG 12: Responsible Consumption and Production). These events go beyond success; they prove that small actions, shared collectively, create meaningful impact.
Even in my academic work sustainability has advanced from a theme to a direction. My current legal courses explore balancing ecological development against corporate accountability. I hope to manifest my studies in day-to-day life, advocating for the gap between policy and practice to be bridged (and align with SDG 13: Climate Action).
But living sustainably is not always easy. There are moments of compromise. Saying no to cheap flights and boarding the electrified trainline instead. Learning to fix rather than replace. Explaining to friends why I carry a reusable cup absolutely everywhere. Yet, these small acts which are daily, deliberate, and deeply human, build the invisible architecture of my life grounded in strong values.
Belgium has taught me that sustainability is not a checklist. It is a practice of presence. It’s learning from the city which composts religiously, the neighbours who exchange herbs from balcony gardens, and the cafes which donate left-over food (check ‘Too Good to Go’). It’s discovering that to live lightly is not to have less, but to connect more to people, places, and purpose. And, when I say goodbye to Amai and return to the UK, I won’t just bring back Osito, but the sustainable mindset I’ve built, along with the commitment to share it.
