Uneasy belonging in the mobility capsule: Erasmus Mundus students in the European Higher Education Area

ABSTRACT

Taking Erasmus Mundus Joint Masters students as exemplifications of the intensification of mobility in educational trajectories, this article considers their modes of belonging in super-mobility. Their educational experiences take place within a consortium of universities, necessitating intensive and routinized collective movement to multiple locations. This novel way of practising mobility within higher education calls for new frames to describe the distinctiveness of the super-mobility experience and how belonging is enacted and reflected in this transnational space. It aligns itself with the critical approach to hypermobility, especially with regard to its impact on mental well-being. Through an empirical, multi-year qualitative study of student experiences, we propose a new concept of the mobility capsule as both a meso-level structure and a particular way of practicing mobility which implies a transnational group experience, usually organised within an institutional framework of studies. Our results show that the experience of the mobility capsule is characterised by intense speed, routine uprootedness and cosmopolitan social closure. These features weigh heavily on the construction of personal and group belonging and have particular consequences for well-being. We conclude with a critique of such institutional set ups given the persistent glorification of hypermobility.

KEYWORDS:

• Erasmus Mundus
• mobility
• belonging
• well-being
• international student mobility
• European Higher Education Area

Introduction

There is a growing body of literature in migration and mobility studies on International Student Mobility (ISM), the benefits and drawbacks of intercultural experience, transnational networks, motivations for studying abroad, accumulation of mobility capital as well as identity-shaping processes, focusing on short-term credit mobility like Erasmus (Feyen and Krzaklewska 2013; Cairns et al. 2018; Van Mol and Michielsen 2015), as well as degree mobility to one destination abroad (Smith and Khawaja 2011; Findlay et al. 2011; Hovdhaugen and Wiers-Jenssen 2021). While non-degree Erasmus+ exchanges remain a cornerstone of the European Higher Education Area, and degree mobility, primarily from non-Western to Western countries is steadily on the rise (OECD 2020), the last two decades have seen the development of a new type of mobility: multi-destination, fast-paced onwards movement within structured multi-university degree programmes that places international mobility networks at the heart of the learning experience. Erasmus Mundus Joint Masters, the new generation of European mobility at the Master and previously at the PhD level, attract highly-skilled EU and non-EU students through generous scholarships and attractive networks of institutions to pursue a joint degree programme at several universities (Papatsiba 2013; Czerska-Shaw and Krzaklewska 2021; European Commission 2021). Depending on the programme of study, students move between 2 to 4 countries within a 2-year period. Yet there has been virtually no wide-scale research on this growing population of young mobile students, with this study attempting to fill this gap.

We view this group as illustrative both of the trends in mobility intensification within education pathways and, more generally, in transitions to adulthood (Yoon 2014; Cairns 2014; Robertson, Harris, and Baldassar 2018). The drive for internationalisation in higher education is also indicative of structural changes which result, among others, in the institutionalisation of inter-university networks and interdisciplinary programmes (Brooks and Waters 2011; Curaj, Deca, and Pricopie 2018; European Commission 2018). On the basis of empirical research, we suggest that this novel way of practising mobility within higher education calls for new frames to describe the distinctiveness of the super-mobility experience of these young people as to better understand the consequences of routine uprootedness and the isolation of social distinction. We draw on empirical data gathered through seven focus group interviews with 40 Erasmus Mundus Masters students in their first and second years of study, both European and third-country nationals, gathered between January 2018 – March 2019.

We propose a new concept of the mobility capsule as both a meso-level structure and a particular way of practicing mobility which implies a transnational group experience of onwards mobility. This would be usually organised within an institutional framework of studies, but which could also be observed in relation to work mobility or non-formal education programmes. The experience of the mobility capsule, as garnered by our study, is characterised by rush and anticipation, routine uprootedness, and heightened social closure within an international social bubble. Critically, what becomes central in the experience of studying within the mobility capsule is the issue of belonging and processes of social anchoring (Grzymala-Kazlowska 2016), which shape the personal and educational experience of students, but also have consequences in relation to their identities and sense of self, including wellbeing.

Positing our study alongside critical discussions on the mobile turn (Urry 2007) and particularly on processes of hypermobility amongst global elites (Frandberg and Vilhelmson 2003), we draw on research that reflects on the darker sides thereof within the broader context of neo-liberal globalist markets of consumption, wherein access to mobility is limited, considered to be a social good in and of itself (Cohen and Gössling 2015). We argue that the institutionalisation and glamorisation of super-mobility within the Higher Education Area has overlooked its significant negative social and psychological effects on a population of young mobile elites, offering a critical reflection of its sustainability, accessibility, and internal inequalities within international student mobility structures.

Super-mobility through Erasmus Mundus

First launched in 2004 as Erasmus Mundus Masters Courses (EMMC), Erasmus Mundus Joint Masters (EMJM) fall under Key Action 2 of the Erasmus+ Programme of the European Commission, managed by the Education, Audiovisual and Culture Executive Agency and respective national agencies. What is unique within Erasmus Mundus-type programmes is that mobility is a multiple-destination, institutionalised group experience without a fixed ‘home’ country, in contrast to the largely individualised mobility practiced by other types of international exchange students. As exemplified by Erasmus Mundus, these ‘super-mobile’ students are defined by Czerska-Shaw and Krzaklewska (2021) as those whose educational experiences are embedded within mobility, anchored in a consortium of universities, with an intensive and routinised experience of collective movement to multiple locations. The institutional framework is built upon highly-integrated networks of universities and partner organisations which offer a number of attractive scholarships to mostly non-EU (partner country) students as well as EU-country (programme) students, although most applicants are self-funded (European Commission 2018). In 2018, there were 132 EMJM accredited programmes across different fields of higher education, both STEM and humanities/social sciences related, with another 48 chosen for the next funding period starting in 2019, including 3650 new scholarships (European Commission 2020).

This group experience is shaped by the institutionalised framework and cultural mixity within these programmes, as well as macro-level factors such as the encouragement of youth travel and increased criteria of international experience for high-level professional employment (Waters, Brooks, and Pimlott-Wilson 2011; Hof 2019), adding a layer of external pressures and expectations. Hof (2019) points to a trend of young European mobile elites seeking higher pay-offs on their social and mobility capital in ever-distant and seemingly exotic destinations, suggesting that educational and professional mobility in the European space lacks distinction. The Erasmus Mundus Joint Masters, and new developments of these types of programmes at the BA level, are an institutional reaction to this growing distinctive mobility imperative. Positioned as a prestigious scheme for carefully selected high-skilled students, the official aims of the EMJM range from enhancing the international dimension of higher education worldwide, raising the quality of higher education programmes in Europe, as well forging new mindsets amongst individuals through intercultural and international experiences (European Commission 2021). To some extent, we may see the distinctiveness of EMJMs in contrast to ‘regular” Erasmus mobility schemes designed to be a more accessible experience of European youth. Young people who have the social capital and means to do so, are seeking out increasingly more intense and unique mobility experiences to distinguish themselves and their CVs. In fact, the mobility experience remains a central motivation for applying students, highlighted by alumni as the essence of the educational process (Terzieva and Unger 2019).

Theoretical considerations: belonging in mobility

Increasingly mobile lives, fluid migratory patterns and the development of transnational social spaces made their way to the forefront of migration and diaspora studies in the last decade of the 20^th century (Alejandro, Guarnizo, and Landolt 1999; Vertovec 2001, 2003; Bauböck and Faist 2010). By the first decade of the 21^st century, the mobile turn (Urry 2007) had entered into mainstream social theory, grasping the intensification of transnational flows in contemporary social relations and experiences. The generation of young people currently pursing higher education, particularly in the European context, have grown up with mobility as a normative, global imperative, which has not only built networks of internationalised systems and practices at institutional levels, but has shaped the social imaginaries and motivations of young people to pursue studies abroad.

However, as migration and mobility scholars have observed, access to certain types of mobilities is in itself highly unequal, dependent on resources such as social and cultural capital, networks, borderless zones and enabling passports (De Haas, Castles, and Miller 2020; Collier 2013; Bauman 2016). Globally, the stratification in the experience of mobility has led to the emergence of a new class of mobile elite, the wanted ‘tourists’ in Bauman’s (1996) post-modern metaphor, well connected to international and social networks, what Favell (2008) in the European context refers to as Eurostars. According to Cohen and Gössling (2015), elite mobility has offered a myth of freedom, cosmopolitanism, and unfettered capitalist consumption, leading to its glorification and self-perpetuating acceleration, at the same time putting aside discussions on its negative implications. Research on professional elites and their experiences of mobility have proliferated (see for example Nowicka 2012; Savage, Bagnall, and Longhurst 2005; Andreotti, Patrick Le, and Fuentes 2012; Favell 2008), revealing cosmopolitan practices and dispositions, whilst at the same time a sense of deterritorialisation and isolation (Levitt and Schiller 2004; Vieten 2006).

The glorification of hypermobility and the imperative to chase mobility experiences are also evident in the field of international student mobility (Waters, Brooks, and Pimlott-Wilson 2011; Findlay et al. 2011). Yet very few studies have taken up the issue of well-being of young people with intensive mobility patterns, with some notable exceptions (Chase and Allsopp 2021; Grønseth 2013). Grønseth emphasises the subjective and dynamic nature of well-being in mobility, seen as ‘a quest for different experiences, sensations and feelings of comfort, contentment, security, joy, pleasure, achievement and success […]’ (Grønseth 2013, 13). It is, essentially, about continually finding one’s place and constructing oneself in ‘borderland spaces’, zones between self and other, a space of belonging. Indeed, the issue of belonging becomes central in the debates on super-mobility and its potential consequences.

Our study adopts an empirically-driven and processual conceptualisation of belonging in mobility, detached from fixed notions of home and host societies and settlement, but rather in creating a sense of stability and personal adaptation, strongly tied to the notion of well-being. Belonging is a deeply complex phenomenon ranging from psychological, socio-cultural to geographical factors, connected to individual and group identities that are marked by emotional attachments, value-systems and social locations. It is about feeling ‘at home’, and importantly, about feeling safe (Yuval-Davis 2006).

The starting point in this study is an understanding of belonging as the triadic relationship between self, others, and one’s environment, wherein individual and collective strategies interlink with external events as an ongoing process (Gustafson 2001). The first dimension of the self is an autobiographical reflection and related to the concept of well-being, whereas the second, focusing on the relation with others is reflexive and relational in nature, based on one’s social interactions. Finally, one’s environment is a place signifying emotional attachment with the physical environment, often also containing notions of local community and shared culture (Gustafson 2001).

However, belonging in mobility becomes all the more dynamic when one’s environment is constantly changing and when the self is in a constant state of flux, encapsulated by Bauman’s liquid modernity (2000) and the intertwining of belonging in roots and routes (Gustafson 2001). Movement itself becomes a critical factor and as such, needs to be integrated into the understanding of belonging. As Dolby and Rizvi point out, ‘the movement itself constitutes a new space of identification, of belonging’ (2008, 1). Following Fallov, Jørgensen, and Knudsen (2013), mobile belonging may be understood as the product of relations between three dimensions: mobile environments, people and places, conditioned by time and with the reflexive self at its core.

In studies on modes of belonging amongst highly mobile elites, Savage, Bagnall, and Longhurst (2005) observed patterns of ‘elective belonging’, defined as a sense of home or place not in a fixed geographical point, but in social imaginaries created through networks of connectivity. Other studies, such as Andreotti, Patrick Le, and Fuentes (2012), highlight ‘partial exit strategies’ of local anchoring amongst professional mobile elite, who upon closer observation find ways in which they embed themselves into local communities. In the space of mobility, practices of anchoring – individual strategies underlining the need for stability and security – become useful analytical tools to observe the dynamic nature of belonging (Grzymala-Kazlowska 2018). Social anchoring is defined by Grzymała-Kazlowska as the process of finding significant reference points which allow migrants to restore their socio-psychological stability in new life settings. The anchors people use allow them to locate their place in their world, give form to their own sense of being and provide them with a base for psychological and social functioning. In this way, anchoring represents a means of both adaptation and integration (Grzymala-Kazlowska 2016, 1131). Linking identity, feelings of security, safety and stability, as well as integration, social anchoring is a useful analytical tool to study the life ‘footholds’ – subjective as well as objective resources – used by mobile people in the process of adaptation (ibid). Examples of objective resources include legal status, institutional support, spatial and environmental footholds in a neighbourhood, city, or places of memory. Subjective resources rely on social ties, group belonging, and the quantity and quality thereof (ibid).

In our study, these self-styled ‘capsules’ of belonging may be anchored in a suitcase, a small bedroom, everyday local practices and, importantly, meso-level structures embedded in the higher education space, and reveal new strategies for belonging in mobility. At the same time, the attention that the concept of social anchoring gives to stability, a sense of well-being, is critical for our reflections particularly when we note the absence of stability. This allows for the analysis of the quality and quantity of social anchoring, when it becomes too shallow across social networks and when objective resources, such as legal status or institutional support, are weak.

Study methodology

Our study looked into a statistically residual group of super-mobile students within two signature Erasmus Mundus Joint Master Degree programmes. In 2018–2019, we conducted a qualitative study concentrating on exploring the values, meaning and experiences of Erasmus Mundus students participating in two degree programmes in the social sciences. Seven focus groups were conducted in different locations (Poland – 2, Netherlands, Sweden, Spain, Czech Republic – 2) with 40 first and second year students from multiple countries, mostly European (Erasmus+ programme country students, including a few countries outside the EU, such as Turkey and Norway) but also partner country students from, among others, Armenia, USA, China, Taiwan, India, Thailand and Georgia. Three focus groups were conducted with 2nd year students, two with 1st year students and two with a mixed group. The participants were mostly female, reflecting the population within the programmes. They are on average 24–25 years old, often already having completed one or more stays abroad.

The aim of the focus groups was to reflect on the personal and group experiences of mobility within the institutionalised framework of the programmes. The interview scenario included such themes as: highlights and challenges of super-mobility; social, psychological and physical consequences of super-mobility; personal experience of super-mobility; recommendations for management bodies governing such programmes. The reflection on personal experiences of mobility were aided by the projection technique wherein students were asked to draw a timeline of their educational experience, marking each mobile transition as well as positive and negative moments associated with these junctures. The material was analysed with the usage of computer software and implied, firstly, inductive coding on part of the material, then after the codebook was negotiated between the two researchers, the interviews were coded with a final list of codes.

While our results are based on two particular case-studies and we do not wish to claim data generalisations, the material is rich and we believe that it describes a particular mobility experience that can be extrapolated to other programmes/projects. We anchor our findings in more than a decade of direct observation and engagement with Erasmus Mundus programmes, both from the standpoint of academic teaching and administering these inter-university networks. Regarding the limitations of our research results, the group of Erasmus Mundus students who participated in our study belong to very Europeanized programmes, wherein females and Western European students dominate. The two programmes are also linked thematically to topics of migration, cosmopolitanism and Europeanisation, providing students with a particular vocabulary to describe their experiences, which might not be the case for other programmes e.g. in STEM. Because the programmes are rather small, to avoid identification, we only provide data on gender, the year of study and geographical origin.

Empirical findings

Defining the mobility capsule

The concept of the mobility capsule is one which is borne out empirically, through the specific experience of our study participants and by their institutional mobility framework. We conceptualise mobility capsule as both a structure and a particular way of practicing mobility which implies a group experience of being on the go, usually organised within an institutional framework of studies, work or non-formal education programmes. On one hand, when thinking of the metaphor of the capsule, we may imagine a capsule (bubble or a spaceship) that ‘carries’ a group from one location to another, creating particular conditions for movement for its passengers and opportunities for social relations. With this image to hand, we need to remember that the mobility capsule also denotes an institutional set up in relation to the EMJMs. Going beyond our case study, it could be viewed as a symbolic space of ‘mobility’, of structured movement as such, that carries its ‘passengers’.

We define three main features that characterise the mobility capsule – speed, routine uprootedness and cosmopolitan social closure – and these are analytically related to the triadic concept of belonging outlined in the theoretical framework above, respectively: movement, places, people. We elaborate on these three features below.

The first feature, movement, underscores the importance of speed, a constant rush, which is firstly a structural characteristic that implies a heightened intensity of a given programme/project in a condensed period of time. Constant deadlines, a high workload, competitive atmosphere and necessity to plan for the next mobility all within a short space of time come into play here. This trait relates to the dimension of movement in belonging, providing a sense of the quality and quantity thereof. This feature weighs heavily on actors’ personal well-being: feelings of anticipation which produce mixed reactions of an adrenaline rush on one hand, and anxiety and stress on the other.

The second feature, place, is marked by routine uprootedness, which implies mobility to multiple destinations, whether in onwards mobility patterns to ever new locations, back and forth ‘pendulum’ mobility, or star-shaped formations to a given set of locations. It implies a normalised routine of packing, moving, settling, and packing again, which is structured by a schedule within the institutionalised mobility programme. It has deep implications on place-making mechanisms, relations to one’s locality and the concept of home, and is therefore inextricably tied to the dimension of place within the concept of belonging.

Lastly, the mobility capsule is characterised by the people who inhabit it as well as the structure of the group itself. The structure is shaped by its high level of social closure: small groups which are often isolated from local populations and other more dispersed international spheres because of the exclusiveness of the programmes they are in. This leaves little time and space for the inclusion of others, for a widening of the bubble which is constantly on the move. At the same time, the significant feature of this population is its internal diversity, particularly regarding ethno-cultural characteristics. Inherently international in nature, this feature is often tied to a sense of cosmopolitanism or ‘being at home in the world’. While ethno-culturally mixed, this group is more homogenous in terms of socio-economic background, in possession of cultural and social capital, and who have the means to pursue international mobility. This last feature presents a complex paradox: it is at once a diverse, cosmopolitan population, whilst at the same time a necessarily closed, self-isolating group. This presents significant challenges to social boundary-making/maintenance processes and has various effects on self-identity and group identity building, both in terms of everyday practices and global outlooks.

These three features are necessarily relational: the speed and intensity of the experience has an effect on place-making mechanisms, which in turn has consequences on social relations and building of self and group identity. What was of interest to us in our study was how these features of the mobility capsule helped to shape social relations and place-making mechanisms, which allows us to make observations on the process of belonging in super-mobility on a micro-level of social practices, paying particular attention to social anchoring and the outcomes in relation to well-being. We analyse these processes below.

Movement: in a rush

The particular arrangement of mobility within EMJMs consisting of short bursts of 4–5 months in different geographical locations has very particular consequences. The feeling of being in a rush was commonly noted among our respondents, with mixed effects. On the positive side, being in a rush triggers the experience of having a rush: high adrenaline which positively correlates with excitement and adventure, of seeking the novel. On the other side, it is linked with anxiety and stress, influenced by the weight of decisions that students need to take in a short space of time. For our respondents, stress was linked to diverse spheres of life: the organisation of the programme and academic demands, access to health services, financial issues, and in the case of non-EU students, visa, insurance and other legal issues. In every destination, the stress of gathering new information was apparent and this matched with studies related to communication barriers in a foreign language (Krzaklewska and Skórska 2013). As a result there is little time for pause, of just being in the moment like during typical Erasmus stays abroad. This intensity revealed itself in a myriad of ways: our respondents pointed to both physical and mental health problems such as being constantly sick, loosing hair, insomnia and, most often, anxiety.

I don’t know if it’s stressful, but everything is made in a rush. You feel like you never stay in a place, you are moving all the time. [female, EU citizen, 2nd year]

When you’re leaving a place, you’re supposed to be sad about it, but I think most of us are too busy to process this. There are lots of assignments at the end of the term, you have to find new accommodation, you are so caught up in organising the start of the next semester, you don’t have room to; at least for me it doesn’t hit me. [female, EU citizen, 2nd year]

As the mobility capsule is constantly running at high speed, and students are chasing the next experience, the principle of making the most of their time is internalized. Being used to the high speed and intensity of relocations, stress might paradoxically come from slowing down and not having structured time requiring constant preparedness and awareness. Our study revealed that it is the constant novelty of movement – the feeling of being in a rush – which gave our respondents a feeling of security. This internationalized rush may be perceived as an element of this group’s habitus, and rarely questioned. In fact, one student described how being ‘outside the capsule’ during the summer break made her feel as if she were homeless, and others noted how the stress level is particularly high during the in between periods, such as the summer holidays:

I am anxious, I have very bad panic attacks, I deal with anxiety every day, every month, all the time. So it’s higher [the stress] during my in-between periods [outside mobility capsule], because it’s conflicting feelings, super happy and super sad, because you don’t know how to feel. [female, EU citizen, 2nd year]

Summer was absolute chaos, I was homeless. I couldn’t go back to the [United] States because of the insurance, also I didn’t have anywhere to go. I could go to my mom’s house, but I would just sit on the couch and that would be awful. So I didn’t really have anywhere to go in the States, but also I wasn’t allowed to. But also my visa ran out in June, and so I think I was in 15 countries this summer. And I was choosing the cheapest possible countries. I was in Georgia for a few weeks, at like 2 euros a night, it was a disaster. […] I was exhausted the entire time, but I really enjoyed it as well, I was busy at least. [female, non-EU citizen, 2nd year]

It is important to note here that this immobility experience was often felt much more acutely by non-EU students, who confronted barriers to their movement. This was due to legal issues associated with visas and residence permits which did not overlap as intended, pushing some students into in-between spaces of legality during the ‘rest’ periods between mobilities. The feeling of unequal access to the space of transnational mobility in relation to EU students was expressed by non-EU students, regardless of their country of origin and level of peripherality in the global context. Other studies have also shed light on the systemic inequalities in international mobility (Kim 2017; Hof 2019). The students from the EU seemed to have a stronger desire for the mobility chase in comparison to those who came from more distant locations, possibly due to a stronger mobility habitus. If we link it to the distinction making rationale, the non-EU students fulfilled their aim of distinction-making by arriving to Europe, while for EU students the distinction-making strategy would need to relate to the intensity of their mobility but also through choosing to do one part of the programme outside Europe.

In highlighting the constant stress related to deciding on the next destination, it is worth mentioning that the mobility capsule framework plays an important role of a security net, or anchor, that mitigates this stress if clear guidelines and information are provided regarding legal, organisational and bureaucratic issues. Institutionalised mobility programmes become a sort of conveyer belt of the mobility experience and – if well managed – offer a sense of security for those in it. A dependence forms here, as much of the burden for providing a soft landing is placed on the programme management, and once outside of the ‘system’, our respondents revealed feelings of impatience, unease and itchy feet. Also, the processes of anchoring may relate to the movement as such, with students finding safety in subsequent mobility moves, being ‘on the road’. We observed a deep need to chase mobility, to jump back onto the mobility bandwagon after periods of rest.

When you’re moving around, you feel like you need to stop, but as soon as you’re in one place, then I start to get itchy feet and want to do something else. [female, EU citizen, 2^nd year]

I normally over-commit myself, I never stop. I was working full time over the summer, then travelling, I’ve got so many things to do. I feel like I’m never enough, I never prepare enough in advance. There were so many things to set up. [female, EU citizen, 2^nd year]

In summary, a feeling of anticipation is commonly shared within the mobility capsule experience, as it is a lived mixture of anxiety and happiness, or excitement over the next move with matched regrets or sadness for the things/places/people left behind. The anticipation also has much to do with deterritorialization; trying to find connections to local communities becomes a hassle when one is already mentally in the next destination. The process of leaving to a next destination without regrets comes with this model of studies – the model itself cuts out the time that might be used for the reflection of past experiences or regrets. This has significant implications on the feelings of home and place, which we discuss next.

Places: routine uprootedness

Initially, the majority of our respondents shared a feeling of detachment to what they considered home before embarking on the mobility programme, with often strong negative emotions towards their home regions or countries, and quick acceptance of their ‘home-no-home’ status. The negative emotions were most visible amongst the younger movers in the first part of their mobility, who saw a clean break in their ability to move and seek brighter futures anywhere but home:

There is nothing for me there [in country X], so I really want to keep moving, I don’t know where, but I want to do it. [female, EU citizen, 1st year].

Once detached from ‘home’, what we observed was the negotiation of multiple social spaces, some of which overlapped in various constellations of mobility patterns and groups within them, with the possibility of existing at the same time through the help of social media and other ICTs. While these self-chosen transnational social spaces are, at least for the period of intense mobility, kept ‘active’, the social space of family home becomes one of absence, observer or gazer positioning.

Combining the life back at home and here [is difficult]. In [home country] I had my life, and here I have my [other] life, and sometimes they would overlap, but they’re not really connecting. […] So when I come back home I feel like I’m more of an observer, I used to be the one in the middle of stuff with my friends, but now I’m there looking that the stuff they are doing. It’s not like if you come back, everyone is going to listen to your experience, wow, what did you do. So basically it’s as if you just start again where you stop, and continue as if nothing happened, just daily things. [female, EU citizen, 2^nd year]

The detachment from home is further embedded by the onwards flow of the study mobility exemplified by Erasmus Mundus Masters programmes – the constant jumping from one location to the next. This reflects Cohen and Gössling’s observation that the lack of co-presence with family and friends back ‘home’ fuels a sense of isolation, which in turn leads to more travel, ‘ironically caging people within the very same corporeal mobilities through which they sought ideals of freedom’ (Cohen and Gössling 2015, 1671). Home becomes a highly individualised space: a suitcase with few personal objects, always ready for the next move. Some of our respondents expressed the difficulties they found in relation to their place-belonging:

Trying to create a sense of home is difficult when you have so few items. You convert yourself into this very mobile ‘capsule’—limited wardrobe, you reduce everything to the basics—which is fine, but … it takes the sheen off of life, the decorations that make things prettier, the sense of beauty, aesthetics, and homeliness. [female, EU citizen, 1^st year]

For me the biggest, when at the end, you’re finally familiar with a place, you have to leave it again. Sad that you have to leave everyone you met. You basically build your life for 5 months and then you have to leave. It doesn’t stop, but everything you made, you have to bring it with you. It’s a challenge. That is when you are uprooted, again. Uprootedness as a constant experience. [male, non-EU citizen, 2^nd year]

Yet once on the move, our respondents experienced the localities in which they resided, for the most part small to middle-range university cities (from 100,000 to 800,000 inhabitants), ranging from Central and Eastern Europe, to Scandinavia, and Western Europe. Whilst not exactly fitting the prototype of Bensen and O’Reilly’s ‘lifestyle’ migration (2009), they certainly found themselves at the crossroads of tourism, leisure, studies and mobility in their various destinations, in search of novelty. Their anchoring practices in these student cities included, unsurprisingly, everyday micro-engagements with the local space: eating, shopping, going out, engaging in some forms of culture, albeit most often in transnational social spaces.

There is always this thing of fetishizing the local … that we need to be a part of the [local] community. And I really wonder what makes you a part of the local community, whether you live in a place for 3 months, 8 months, when does it happen? Usually when you live in a place with international students, we don’t have too many friends [from here], maybe 3 or 4 who really grew up here. I don’t think this is the idea if you live in a place for 3 or 4 months, you’re not really a local. It’s this tension - we have the local habits, [everyday life], but we cannot consider ourselves locals. I don’t think we even participate, we don’t know what’s going on in the city. How many of us read local news of what’s going on in the city. [male, EU citizen, 2^nd year]

There is a distinct sense of self-reflexivity here, a self-critical stance to one’s position in the local space. In a first stage, often before the next mobility, our respondents expressed excitement in experiencing a new place, of not just being tourists, but of ‘really getting to know’ a certain city and region. However, this excitement was soon tempered by the rush of studies, upkeep of social relations, and the constant thinking about the next mobility once on the ground. What ensued in the majority of cases was a limited experience outside the international student bubble and even narrower space of the institutionalised super-mobility, which by the end was largely accepted as a structural constraint of the programme.

Some students, however, did manage to go outside the ‘bubble’ of their mobility capsule to engage in other international student associations, to live with local students, to actively search for extra-curricular activities that forced them outside of their comfort zone. Those who felt a strong attachment to their chosen localities often came back for the third and/or forth semesters, essentially limiting their mobility to two places rather than three or four. Yet these experiences were largely in the space of symbolic identification, journeys of self-realisation, rather than embedded in local practices and encounters.

In [city X in the country of respondent] I knew it [the system]. But when I came here, I discovered a new perspective of Europe. Central Europe is like, it changes my perception of the world, the region, but also my home country. I have so many images, I don’t know what to do with it. I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of knowing something new, and maybe being able to do something with it. Finding maybe also my path through it. It’s difficult [to express]. It’s really changing me and my plans. I don’t know how, but I know that the knowledge I have here, it’s very important for my future. [female, EU citizen, 1^st year]

In the end, while some valued the minimalism the mobility capsule offered – this makes them freer, less consumption-driven, and more compact – it also heightened their awareness of being uprooted, forcing them to find solace not in their material belongings but in social relations and experiences. The majority of our respondents related to the clichéd expression of ‘home is where the heart is’, defining their home in the friends they made on the mobility path. This brings us to the final dimension of the mobility capsule which focuses on the social relations and boundary making mechanisms within and outside the mobility capsule.

People: closed encounters

Taking the clichéd expression of ‘home is where the heart is’, it is evident that belonging on the move is strongly dependent on social relations. What is unique in this study is the institutionally structured social closure that becomes the capsule of social interactions, which has an impact on bonds within the mobility structure as well as on othering practices outside of the capsule. In this context, it is interesting to analyse the tension between values of openness and inclusion, the ‘abstract worldly outlooks’ (Nowicka 2012), and the need to construct social closure and distinction within a very niche, elite group.

The positive [aspect] of being in a multicultural bubble is that you see lots of international people, but the downside is you have a safety net – [it’s] harder to meet locals. It’s not necessary. I don’t live with any [local] people. Not as much interaction as I would like. That’s natural. Takes a while to break out of the Erasmus bubble. [female, EU citizen, 1st year]

But the best thing was the people who were in class with me. And I was so surprised, because for the first time in my life I found people who talk my “language” […] I met people who talk and think and look at the world in the way that I do, and they did completely different studies from me, so we had a lot to talk about, because they taught me things I didn’t know, and I hope I taught them the same. Really I found that I was belonging to something bigger that I didn’t know the existence of before. So, really a group of people from another planet. [female, EU citizen, 1st year]

Here we observed that the Erasmus bubble closed in on itself, now a smaller micro-Erasmus Mundus space on the outskirts of the Erasmus community, yet with a very clear sense of group identity. It is not just a mode of being, but a space of belonging, and the consciousness of being embedded in it (Levitt and Schiller 2004). For our super-mobile group of students, who were at once international but not ‘Erasmus’, their sense of belonging was most significantly structured around their ‘programme bubble’, wherein the significant other was found in Erasmus students.

All the Erasmus – this is a year off for them essentially. Academics not a priority. Whereas me, I’m paying for this myself, I’m more invested in it, thinking about my thesis, career … These are all very serious decisions. The environment and state of mind is very different from my fellow (Erasmus) students. […]When I talk to someone, they think, ah you’re an Erasmus student, you don’t have to do anything. It’s not the same. I think it also excludes (me), because I cannot get drunk every night, go out and not do schoolwork. I’ve met people and have other friends, but us as a class, we are in a bubble – we can make connections but not really. [female, EU citizen, 1st year].

It becomes clear that super-mobility programmes like Erasmus Mundus are a sort of post-Erasmus stage in the transition into adulthood, where mobility is taken more seriously as a ticket to future career paths. Nevertheless, because of their small numbers and relative obscurity, this group suffers from a lack of recognition of its status from outside of the bubble. In their short returns home, many of our respondents were not able to adequately convey their experiences to their friends and family who stayed behind:

Also, I don’t know about you, but for me it’s really hard to explain to my family and friends what this experience means. Of course I’ve made that choice to travel this much and go abroad and you need to make compromises, but for people who don’t do that, they don’t understand how hard it is. It’s not just about travelling and having fun, it’s really demanding, it’s really challenging, it’s stressful, it’s very overwhelming a lot of the time. And I have to, what can I do if I just stay stuck in the place that I was living in. It’s really hard to talk to people who don’t talk your language. The thing of explaining that I have to move to find something. [female, EU citizen, 1st year]

Our respondents were acutely aware of the privileged status that they had, which became a source of uncomfortable boundary making and isolation. This privilege was considered a weight – some of them tried to mask it by downplaying their experiences, others simply did not talk about it at all, particularly those more difficult challenges that come with mobility. The students in our study were not immune to acts of discrimination, feelings of exclusion or acute culture/climate shock, forcing them deeper into the safety of their transnational social space. Non-EU students and visible ethnic and religious minorities reported the highest incidences of these feelings, although detachment from local and national contexts was the norm across the board.

My housemates didn’t want me to use the living room, they were not comfortable with sharing the space with a non-white person. I was thinking that there must be something wrong, it took me a long time to know what they wanted to say, but then I understood what they wanted to say. So now I have more options, strategies to deal with it. It got less and less stressful […] There’s this thing – international students try to find local friends, and then the flatmates think that they will need to be the ones who are dealing with the international students and they may not want to do this [male, non-EU, 2^nd year].

What exemplifies these students, however, is their self-awareness and acceptance of being situated outside the social fields of their geographical locations, whilst at the same time placing local experience and participation on a normative pedestal. They had a desire to get to know the local space, but were too far removed from it to be able to grasp at its contours or were simply excluded; in the end they created their social boundaries within a very small group of like-minded people. This paradoxical situation reflected the self-reflexive turmoil amongst this group: in possession of a worldly outlook and reflexive self-positioning that becomes structurally constrained in the mobility capsule, without the possibility to reach beyond the bubble into the local context. This tension became in a way a catalyst of strong feelings of loneliness and isolation, and in that isolation, feelings of anxiety about the future came most strongly to the fore.

The excitement got slowly turned around, because I started to feel a bit lonely, so I had a lot of expectations, but then it went down a bit. And the question of what are you going to do comes in, it’s not that present in the first year, but in the second year it is, and with doing the research you have a lot of time to contemplate this question. So I had some issues with that. [male, EU citizen, 2nd year]

Overall, it may be said that the more ambitious students, who imagine their future to be in a highly mobile, transnational sphere, are caught in the trap of endless possibilities and this becomes a psychological burden. They become acutely aware that this cosmopolitan openness has very sharp boundaries, often limited to other transnational social spaces, with a sense of alienation from ‘home’ and only minimal anchoring possibilities in local contexts. It seems paradoxically that the more ambitious and open the future plans, the more prone to anxiety these students become. Yet even though the large majority are aware of the mental, social and physical toll of super-mobility, the talk about settling down is only ever short-term: the longest timeframe the vast majority of our respondents envisaged being in one place for was two years.

Discussion and conclusions

It is evident that there is a deep sense of urgency amongst young, mobile students to chase experiences within ever-more mobile frameworks, which ensures a near-constant adrenaline rush. The super-mobility web we see emerging through integrated mobility programmes like Erasmus Mundus takes this adrenaline rush to another level, now an intimately shared group experience which takes on a particular rhythm and routine. Yet this rush takes its toll, and we observed that issues surrounding mental-health and well-being came to the fore when discussing belonging in the super-mobile framework – a sort of microcosm of the pressures of high-paced late modern society on the move. These issues are compounded by the isolation that often comes with intensive social closure, in this context the transnational mobility capsule of students within the mobility programme, which is both a supportive network but also a confining social bubble.

While the framework in itself bears consequences for its participants, we identified the main strategies of social anchoring that aim at finding a sense of security and diminishing anxieties/stress. Firstly, we observe the process of anchoring in mobility, wherein the rush and routine of movement in itself offers a sense of stability. Place-making is limited to one’s personal space and the space of particular districts of the city, and anchoring is further nestled in social ties based in the transnational social space of the international student community. Finally, the institutionalised space of the mobility capsule, represented by programme management and support, becomes a particularly important anchoring point, mitigated by the resources that is has on offer and the sometimes unequal access to these resources.

In the article, we proposed the mobility capsule concept as our contribution to the debate on mobility-intensive trajectories and the modes of being and belonging in them. While here the mobility capsule relates to particular group experiences, we believe it could be a useful analytical tool to describe the mobility experiences of diverse groups, within or outside institutional anchoring, but also individual experiences of intensive movement within transnational spaces of belonging, not in a bubble of co-travellers, but in a symbolic community of transnational elites. The mobility capsule may also be a useful metaphor to tell us more about mobile societies (Urry 2007) in relation to belonging, directing our attention to more general pressures in relation to place making, the high-paced rhythm of living and boundary making. This metaphor relates as well to the experience of isolation in mobility – which in relation to the current context of pandemic mobility might become more adequate to describe the experiences of international students who have been cut from local communities due to epidemiological restrictions.

The process of onwards mobility has a significant effect on the self: a normalisation of exhaustion, anxiety, and broader mental-health issues highlighted by these students. We also note the impact that individual side-effects, aggregated at the group level, have had on meso-level structures and processes, in this case the university and consortium levels. Like a racing-car pit crew, university programmes need to prepare students for their next mobility as soon as they arrive at their first, while providing support structures for the various side-effects of super-mobility, including anxiety, culture shock and broader mental health issues. The individual psychological impact of super-mobility is beyond the scope of this project and our disciplinary capacities, but we note the need for such research (Aresi, Marta, and Moore 2021). Also, recognizing the critical role of resources on super-mobility, there is a need for further research to highlight the particular difficulties faced by diverse groups of students, especially non-EU students.

Acknowledgments

We would like to thank the study participants for sharing their experiences and the local programme organisers for their support in setting up focus groups.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

The open access license of the publication was funded by the Priority Research Area Society of the Future under the programme “Excellence Initiative – Research University” at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow.