Amidst the busy freshman orientation, caught in the rush of learning my schedule and navigating crowded halls, I felt immense pressure to find the right friends — the group of friends that would last a lifetime. I talked to my high school friends about this new, daunting experience, and they recommended making connections through common hobbies, classes, or finding a commuter community. It wasn’t until I started going out with different groups and meeting new people that I realized our feet always led us to the same hangout spot: aesthetic, Instagram-worthy boba shops. Boba was more than just a sweet drink with chewy black spheres filled with satisfaction; it became a sacred act of companionship amongst so many new ducks. We’d find ourselves discussing which flavors were superior or debating whether Kung Fu Tea or Gong Cha was the better boba shop. Personally, I’d always plead my case for Gong Cha, but some of my friends argued that Kung Fu Tea had lower prices, bigger serving sizes, and availability on GrubHub. I remember being pleasantly surprised when I ordered my strawberry lemonade with mango-popping boba at Gong Cha.
I hadn’t expected much, but after my first sip, I felt like I’d been missing out on something my entire life. The dried pineapple in my drink was pure perfection, complementing the delicate mango popping pearls, and the strawberry lemonade itself was perfectly balanced — not overly sweet or too lemony. Later, I tried the same drink at Kung Fu Tea with different people, this time opting for strawberry popping boba instead. It was a completely different experience, and I realized I had found my “regular” order. Each boba shop visit became more than just a taste test; it was a moment of connection, comfort, and discovery among the chaos of college life. People recommended taro, which is very light and slightly nutty, and some said the Oreo milk tea was deliciously chocolatey.
Either way, boba also served as a way of expressing yourself through your flavor; I started associating people with their orders. It wasn’t just about people though, it extended to associating it with occasions. For example, when fireworks lit up the sky across the Hudson River, my friends proposed that having boba while watching the fireworks together would be perfect. Just like that, this simple drink became a connection. After a stressful class, we would type “wanna get boba” in the group chat, and with that text, the whole group would assemble together in a few minutes, and the Hoboken streets would see us marching towards the nearest boba shops in desperate need of sweet happiness.
Boba helped us debrief as we shared our stories or whined about assignments; it felt like a safe space from the fast-paced environment for us. The fun starts with the ordering process, choosing from a range of flavors like the creme brulee brown sugar milk tea or the strawberry milk tea boba, and personally choosing from an extensive menu like the one Gong Cha has makes me eager to order. It’s not just about choosing from a large variety of sweet teas and colorful drinks — I see boba becoming a new tradition for making friends. Each boba shop, whether it’s rustic-themed or one with a more natural vibe, has a relaxed environment for hanging out with new friends or even studying together. These little boba adventures are a casual way to bond with fellow ducks and strengthen friendships over a shared love of boba.
