A Good Night's Sleep

Monday’s excitement was met by Tuesday’s trepidation. 

Having to move my flight back several times - initially planning on leaving December 31, but facing hurdles from the timing of visa approvals, then January 7th, then hitting a wall with a few other last-minute plans, my children and I finally embarked on our journey on January 13. 

Anxiety was high, of course. We have flight anxiety, we were sleep deprived, and let’s be real: we were relocating from San Diego, California, to Málaga, Spain, for almost 6 months. 

But much of that was overshadowed by the excitement of all the things to come. 

What types of sights might we see? What kind of good food will we experience? How many cultural sites can we learn about, and how can we get to know more people, learn more, and exchange cultural ideas and values? 

Hopping on a plane in San Diego, my children and I flew to Chicago, Illinois, then to Madrid, Spain, and then finally to our home for the next several months: Málaga, Spain. Until that moment, despite the nerves around flying, my children and I spoke for many weeks about the endless things we planned on doing before my grant started, as well as on holiday, the weekends, and at the end when we had more time before leaving back to the United States. Between fun planning, and then the technical prepping, like packing, visas, and more, the process of relocating from San Diego to Spain was a blur.

So, when we walked into our temporary accommodations, the reality of what we had just done finally hit.

The idea of living somewhere other than where you’re from, traveling the world, and receiving a fantastic grant opportunity like that of the Fulbright U.S. Scholar, is amazing, overwhelming, and exciting. But I think that perhaps social media drowns out the realities of this, and how while excitement is real, it can be met with a variety of emotions, and that reality hit the moment we walked through the door.

Naturally, we were tired. After about 25 hours of traveling, our very nice host let us into the apartment a little earlier than check-in. I was incredibly grateful to him, so we did not have to carry all of our luggage around town. This was only the second flight my children had taken (third for my son, but his first was when he was 4 months old) and was their first international adventure. And while I’ve traveled before and alone to various places, even if I met with friends later, I have never moved, and certainly not with my children in tow.

I had every intention of exploring the first day since we had the rest of the evening, and instead, I fell into a spiral. It was evident my 13-year-old had too. Though he was excited about the different aspects of Spain, and especially Málaga since we’d been looking into all the things we could do, he was suddenly overwhelmed with thoughts of, “I don’t like Spain” from the minute we sat in our taxi. All I could do was collapse on the couch and sleep. And sleep. And sleep some more.

Though we’d only been in our new home for several hours by then, we were already wildly homesick. We could do nothing but sleep on the couch. The drip, drip of the water into the sink kept me up all night, the cold of the apartment because I could not find the heater, if there was one, and having to coordinate video calls with my loved ones because of the time difference suddenly felt far harder to cope with than they could if I was not in this environment. Eventually, I fell into the couch, finally warm enough with socks, sweats, and a sweater, and slept solidly for the first time in over 35 hours.

But, it was clear after that first step through the door - all of the excitement had suddenly faded away.

Will my language skills be strong enough to get by? Will I be able to conduct the research I needed to do? Will I be able to find an actual place to live for the time we are here?

In turn, Monday’s excitement was now, instead, Tuesday’s trepidation. Fear. Angst. Worry. I knew that I would experience some element of this, but to the degree I was now experiencing, I had no idea this would happen. Many of my friends and family told me that I needed a good night’s sleep and I’d feel better, and while that is partially true - I do feel better - I am still met with many of these same fears. I have become incredibly self-conscious of my Spanish speaking skills, and though I can understand it fairly well, speaking it is vastly different. Though I know how to conduct research, working with another university is daunting, especially when it comes to recruiting students who may be involved in my research. Navigating a new city, using public transportation, and having to hold it together for my children feels overwhelming, terrifying, and something I will need to do for the next 5 months.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited by the experience overall still. I am fortunate to give my kids an experience I would never have dreamt of when I was their age. And I also realize I’ve been here for a total of 22 hours. But in that time, I have exchanged at least 12 emails, including with the professor with whom I’ll be interacting, I already struggle with tone through emails with friends, so I’m unable to fully grasp the tone in the emails and am unsure whether I have offended somebody or if it is merely just communication of the details that are straightforward and explanatory.

I’ve faced culture shock before, including within the United States. But when I had, I was not moving there with my children. And I think we tend to ignore the very scary and daunting parts of travel amid the hype of travel influencers and the algorithms who want us to believe it will be completely endearing, wonderful, and exciting with mere diversions when we face hiccups or obstacles.

So here I am, sharing the raw feelings I am currently facing, even after my good night’s sleep. It will fix many things, but the culture shock and reality of navigation and complexities will not go away. I have to work, I have to interact and engage, and I still have to be a mom to my two amazing children and help them cope with their own anxieties, and goals, for this journey.

And if you are facing something similar, don’t let social media fool you: you’re not unusual for feeling them. Traveling and going abroad is a wonderful privilege, honor, and experience overall, met with new opportunities, views, and perspectives, but the fear and angst are real, even if we aren’t introduced to these realities through the narratives on travel with which we are inundated.

So, with that, thank you for joining me on this journey, reading along, and following my reflections through this process. I’ll share a variety of tips and recommendations, ideas, raw feelings, findings, and more, because what’s point in any of this if we aren’t offering advice, vulnerability, and more with each other?