Returning to Beijing Language and Culture University for the 20th World Culture Carnival on April 26 felt like coming home.

From 2016 to 2022, BLCU was not just the place where I studied — first earning my bachelor's degree in Chinese language, then my master's degree in international politics — it was where I grew, struggled, and found my place in a larger global story.

During my student years, the World Culture Carnival was always a highlight. From 2016 to 2019, I led the booth for the United States. Every conversation I had with visitors, every laugh shared across cultural divides, felt like a small but important contribution to a greater understanding between people.

This year, however, marked a particularly special milestone. For the first time, I returned not as a student participant, but as a young media professional, interviewing both Chinese and US students.

It was an entirely different vantage point — and yet, standing among the colorful booths, walking past the rippling flags of 113 countries and regions, I felt the same sense of wonder and hope that had captivated me years ago.

One US student told me, "Events like this create a space where young people from different countries can connect naturally, share their cultures, and see the world through each other's eyes. It's not just about learning facts — it's about building real friendships and breaking down stereotypes, which is how true global understanding begins."

This year's carnival drew more than 40,000 students, alumni, and guests. The opening ceremony was nothing short of magical: a vibrant parade of traditional costumes, national flags waving high, and a shared sense of excitement in the air.

Watching students from so many backgrounds walk together, I was reminded that unity doesn't mean erasing differences — it means celebrating them, side by side.

One of the most striking things for me was seeing how Gen Z students are redefining cultural exchange — and how much more genuine these exchanges have become. Unlike formal diplomatic meetings, these interactions thrived on spontaneity and authentic curiosity. Indonesian students presented their colorful traditional attire with pride, while Chinese students showcased the quiet beauty of traditional flower arranging and tea ceremonies. Students from the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, participating for the first time, shared their country's rich heritage through traditional music, a Taekwondo demonstration, and dancing — which I was thrilled to join.

These were not static exhibits; they were living, breathing, evolving expressions of identity and dialogue.

Seeing the students from Sri Lanka proudly share their vibrant traditions through crafts, clothing, and storytelling made me realize how deeply culture connects us beyond language. Meanwhile, the students from France turned their booth into a cheerful "tour around France", complete with a miniature Eiffel Tower, making even strangers feel like welcome guests.

As one attendee told me, "We bond not through perfected presentations, but through the messy, joyful process of learning each other's worlds."

Circle of connection

Throughout the day, performances added another layer of magic — traditional dances, musical performances, and martial arts displays filled the air with energy.

But the real magic, I realized, happened in the spaces between the performances: in the shared smiles, the hesitant first steps into unfamiliar traditions, the patient explanations of a costume's symbolism, and the collective breath before a song began. In these small, genuine moments, the barriers between "us" and "them" quietly dissolved.

Reflecting on my own journey, the carnival felt like a beautiful full circle.

Years ago, setting up the US booth, I was one of the students trying to "explain" my culture to others. Now, as a media professional, I have the privilege of witnessing and documenting these exchanges, capturing the beauty that unfolds when young people come together with open hearts.

As the day wound down, the festival grounds buzzed with lingering energy. Students posed for selfies in traditional dress, swapped social media contacts, and made plans to visit each other's home countries someday.

Taking part in the event reminded me once again why I fell in love with this university and the ideals it stands for. It reaffirmed my belief that cultural understanding isn't something that happens overnight — it is built moment by moment, conversation by conversation, festival by festival.

Leaving campus that afternoon, I felt not an ending, but a beginning — a beginning of new stories, new connections, and a renewed commitment to the dream of a world where diversity isn't a barrier, but a bridge.

And as I looked back one last time at the colorful booths, with music still echoing in the air, I knew that the spirit of the carnival would stay with me — not just as a memory of my time at BLCU, but as a guiding light for the road ahead.