6 Months Living Abroad: How my Year Abroad Experience May Have Become Lost in Translation

By Ellen Lundy

September 2024. My suitcase was packed, my hopes were high and my Pinterest search history was filled with inspiration that I would use to shape my new Spanish-self. This year, I would transform. This little country caterpillar would become a magnificent mariposa (butterfly). A diamond formed under the pressure of eternal fiestas. Sangria would be my only form of hydration. The essentials? A suitcase filled with suncream, dioralyte and dreams. I was ready. Life awaited me beyond the doors of my Ryanair flight. How I wish I could go back and slap some sense into that naïve little caterpillar. 

If you are embarking on a year abroad, please remember to do the proper research before you go. As you are about to read, the fall of the expectation of how your year abroad will go is like plummeting one hundred feet into water. You believe it will not hurt, you believe that you can cope with the minor differences between your expectations and the truth, but the reality hit will sting as much as cement. 

The Ken moment that never came:

We imagine Spain as beach and sun. Sun and beach. A bit of beach. And a lot more sun. These were the only thoughts my two remaining braincells contained when moving to Spain in September. However, what I failed to remember, and for which a third braincell may have come in handy, is the fact that Spain is a large country. Sometimes, you may find yourself in a city located four hours from the nearest beach. Sometimes, you may find yourself in a city with a river that resembles more of a watery grave than a salted oasis. And sometimes, you will find yourself, with a crazed look in your eye, staring out into the distance questioning whether the ocean ever truly existed or was it simply a motif, manifested by your own brain, to represent freedom.

As I settled into my new reality, I mourned the loss of the joke I had been waiting to tell my family when I returned from my year abroad. 

‘So, what did you do on your year abroad?’ They would ask. I would offer them a half-smirk in return and the glint in my eyes would send a shiver of anticipation through all who dared look as I shrugged my shoulders and replied nonchalantly,

‘I beached.’

The One that Never Got Away (Because he never arrived in the first place):

Monte Carlo. Letters to Juliet. When in Rome. This time last year, I truly believed that these films offered the blueprint of the European experience. Vespa rides under the harsh heat of the mediterranean sun. Dark-featured men with tans that Bellamianta could only dream of emulating. An unlikely but entertaining plotline that will bring two unwilling characters together and set them on the path toward forever. 

The reality of the Spanish dating experience is much different. Picture more skinny jeans, men with egos that fill up more space in a room than their stature and tinder profiles that make you question whether they knew that women could see their profile. There are some charmers to be had, that must be said. They just tend to already have a girlfriend. 

‘I’m Going to Find Myself’ (The Will to Live):

It’s a common saying. I am going to find myself on my year abroad. Well, if I meant I’d find myself in Taco Bell every Tuesday for one euro tacos, then I was right on the money. Now, I realise that is such a naïve thing to say. I’m going to get serious for a moment so if you would like to skip to a more unserious section, I would take no offence. 

This year I have realised that you never find yourself. Everyday, you discover something new about yourself. What you do and don’t like. Who your real friends are and who are a passing phase. Everyday we experience changes, big and small, that alter our chemistry. The way in which we think about the world. We can never find ourselves because that would imply there exists but one version. That is incorrect. We meet a new version in the mirror each day.

 And I am truly thankful for that. I now shudder at the thought of finding myself in my 20s and then being forced to live the rest of my life according to the person I decided I would be on my year abroad. When I am 80, I want to look back at the time I spent here and say ‘God, I really knew nothing about life’ and chuckle softly to myself. Because that is the fun in life. Laughing about our past mistakes. If you read my articles often, you will know that I like to joke about the mistakes that I have made or the odd encounters that I have had. For if we do not laugh at ourselves, the weight of our imperfections will become a burden too heavy to shoulder.

We’ll Always Have Summer:

As I write this on a cloudy day in Salamanca, Spain, I must remind myself of the good times to come. I do not write this article to convince you not to go on your year abroad; I would recommend it to anyone. However, I would say to manage your expectations. Everyone will have a different experience and that is okay. And maybe this time next year, you’ll be like me; sitting in your apartment in March and waiting for the rain to end. But it will end. And with it, summer will come. And the passing experience of the rain will only sweeten the appearance of the sun.