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Being chosen to participate in the "Doing Business in Latin America" program at Universidad Tecnológica del Perú (UTP) felt like being handed a key to a door I hadn't even noticed before. As the only student from New Brunswick Community College (»»ÆÞ̽»¨) to attend this specific program in February 2026, supported by a UMAP scholarship through Global Affairs Canada, I knew I was stepping into something rare. But I had no idea just how much it would change me. 

From the moment I landed in Lima, the experience was different. The first thing I noticed wasn't a single university campus, but that UTP itself was woven into the fabric of the city. Beautiful, modern buildings appeared everywhere, with students constantly streaming in and out. When the university rector later mentioned that UTP serves over 250,000 active students, the sheer scale of it clicked into place. This wasn't just education; it was infrastructure. It was a statement about a nation's future. 

I also became acutely aware, from my very first step off the plane, that I was visibly, audibly different. In my entire time in Peru, I saw only one other person who shared my complexion, and our silent, knowing exchange one night said everything. This isn't a complaint, but it is an important part of my story. It meant I had to learn fast—Spanish became a daily puzzle I solved with Google Live Translate and a lot of pointing. For anyone in my Immigrant Life community reading this, you understand that unique mix of exhaustion and sharpened awareness. Being different doesn't make you invisible; it makes you notice everything. 

That awareness made the welcome we received all the more powerful. The university didn't just process us through an orientation. They introduced us to the academic and business journey ahead, and then surprised us by having Rafael Castillo, the Trade Commissioner of the Canadian Embassy in Peru and Bolivia, there to greet us. Here I was, kilometers from home, and a representative of Canada was there to welcome us. It was my first clue that this program, designed to "connect people from different countries with the Latin American business ecosystem," was taken seriously at the highest levels. I felt that connection immediately. 

Our cohort became a small, intense slice of Canada in Peru. We didn't just study Latin American business; we debated it, lived it, and filtered it through our own diverse lenses. A classmate once said, "Culture, economics, and decision-making are intertwined in complex ways." By the end of our time together, I didn't just understand that sentence—I felt its truth in my bones. 

This was never more clear than during our visit to Torre Interbank. Standing in that tower, looking out over the sprawling city towards the Pacific, we learned about the Intercorp Group and its profound impact on Peru's development. This wasn't a dry case study. We heard how a business group had shaped a country not just through commerce, but through education, healthcare, and infrastructure. I thought again about those 250,000 UTP students and realized I was seeing business and society intertwined in a way our Canadian classrooms often keep separate.

But Peru's most important lessons weren't learned in boardrooms or university halls. They were learned in the small moments. Peruvians welcomed me with an openness I wasn't prepared for. And they were so comfortable with public affection—couples holding hands, families embracing freely. Coming from a culture where personal space is often guarded, this felt both disorienting and beautiful. Slowly, I stopped observing it and started living inside it. A hand on my arm during conversation, a hug goodbye that lingered—these small gestures said: you belong here, at least for now. 

This journey pushed me beyond my comfort zone in ways I never imagined. It taught me that being visibly different isn't a weakness. It's an invitation to pay closer attention, to listen harder, and to learn faster. And attention, when offered generously, becomes connection. I left Peru with a piece of each person in that cohort, and my life is better for it. 

If I could offer any advice to a fellow »»ÆÞ̽»¨ student, it would be this: the door is open. Walk through it. You may feel small against the country you're about to explore, but you will find yourself standing tall. The experience will challenge you, but it will also transform you. You'll learn that education, when done right, isn't just about transferring knowledge—it's about transforming the person receiving it. And you'll return home different, carrying not just memories, but new ways of seeing the world. 

The world is waiting to show you its wonders. And this program is the bridge that will take you there. 

Manru Liu
Human Resources Management, Class of 2026