Spoiler: It Still Feels Like a Vacation
Living abroad is often surreal, but it's still real life.
For months after our move, it felt like we were on vacation.
Will and I would head down to the city center in the middle of the day, the kids safely ensconced at school, ready to explore another alley. We’d gawk at buildings shaped like wedding cakes, plazas buzzing with cafés and people, and palm trees lining the pedestrian streets. Then, we’d grab brunch at Boa Beach or Milk & Butter before heading back to our apartment to wait for the kids to come home.
It felt like a perpetual vacation.
Except it wasn’t — not really. We were (and still are) dealing with bureaucracy, grocery runs, kids’ homework, learning how to get around the city, medical appointments … You get the idea.
In the evenings, when the city started to quiet down, we’d look at the city beneath us from our balcony, lights twinkling and (almost always) fireworks going off in the distance. It didn’t feel like real life.
What was this magical place we’d moved to?
But even in the magic, life goes on. Bills have to be paid. Kids have to go to school. And if you don’t speak the language, there’s a language to learn. While day-to-day life feels more exciting, it isn’t necessarily easier. Easier to go to the beach? Yes. Easier to find an exciting new place to visit? Absolutely.
Just like we had a routine in the U.S., we were learning to embrace a new rhythm in Spain — one that included paella or bocadillas for lunch instead of chicken salad or a burger. What felt like an extraordinary departure from the ordinary is just a typical day in Spain.
Nearly a year in, I’ll admit — it’s still a bit of a thrill to wake up on a weekday or weekend and say, “What are we doing today?” and the answer is, “Let’s go to the beach and grab a drink at the marina.” I don’t think it’ll ever get old. And that view from our balcony? It’s always incredible. Will often says it feels like living near Disney World. He’s not wrong. Something we used to see only on holidays is now a near-daily occurrence with its own particular kind of magic.
Living abroad is still living. As the saying goes: wherever you go, there you are. You may leave some responsibilities behind while picking up new ones. And you may leave some problems behind, but experience others … in a new language. It’s okay to miss the familiar, but embracing the new is like getting a new lease on life.
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An anthropologist told us before we moved overseas that we’d go through four phases. The Tourist phase where everything is exciting. The “I hate everything / Why did we move here?”phase. The “I think I can live here OK” phase. The Gone Native phase. It sounds like you skipped the I Hate it Here phase altogether! You seem well adjusted.
I completely relate to this. Immigration or migration can be very difficult, but there are moments where, three years later, what is new or beautiful in this new place continue to cut through the quotidian activities of bills and doctors and shopping for that thing you need. Parenthetically, I do find that my reluctance to leave my terraza does slow down acquisition of stuff. I still enjoy my one or two empty cabinets or shelves.