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At Cup of Jo, we’ve talked about many different living setups, including living alone, downsizing, sharing a house and, of course, parenting around the world. But what about moving countries? Here seven women share what it was like for them…
Erin Harwood, 36, from Decatur, Georgia, to the Peak District, England
My husband and I moved to England during the pandemic — in March 2021 — to be closer to his aging parents. After marrying my husband, it was the second best decision I’ve ever made.
My husband has dual citizenship (U.S. and U.K.), and we met during my college study abroad, when I lived in England for a year and a half. When we graduated, we started our lives together in the States. But when the pandemic hit in 2020, our thoughts turned to family. Luke’s parents were aging and unlikely to travel internationally very much, even after the pandemic was over. If we wanted to have quality time with them, we needed to move closer.
In the English countryside, we’ve managed to find that mythical work/life balance that seems so much harder for people working in countries without universal health care. We’ve switched from full-time to contract roles (working 30 hours a week) — accepting the pay cuts — so we can spend more time together. Because of the National Health Service, we don’t have to worry about taking on enough contracts to afford health insurance. When I gave birth to my daughter in 2022 and she was transferred to the NICU for two weeks, I was never sent a bill for our care.
Speaking of our daughter, I’m not being dramatic when I say that I owe her birth to our move to England. When we lived in the States, I was convinced I didn’t want children because of the absence of reasonable maternity leave, the high cost of daycare, and the systematic defunding of public education. It wasn’t until we moved abroad that the thought of kids even entered my head as a possibility.
Of course, there are parts that haven’t been easy, like getting a U.K. driving license. The practical driving test is so hard. I’ve been practicing for more than a year and already failed twice! Many people tell me they didn’t pass until their seventh or eighth attempt. Plus, the Brits love their red tape, processes, and rules. I’m always filling out some application or another.
But I love England and its countryside culture. From walking public footpaths across gorgeous farmland and private fields, to foraging berries in the hedgerows, to getting milk delivered in reusable glass bottles, to wearing raincoats along with everyone else — life just feels liberating.
Ximena Velasquez Lino, 35, from Lima, Peru, to Cary, Illinois
Eight years ago, I married my husband and moved from Peru to the United States. The move was thrilling, but I also found leaving behind my large, boisterous family to be heart-wrenching. In Peru, extended family members are often deeply involved in each other’s daily lives, with regular get-togethers. Plus, everyone usually lives close by. In contrast, in the U.S., families are often more spread out and get together only for holidays or milestones. I dearly miss going to big Sunday lunches at my grandfather’s house, with his eight siblings and their children. We’d always eat pollo a la brasa, which is a better version of rotisserie chicken.
As an introvert, I found that making friends here was challenging. Living in Lima, you already feel like you know everybody. Your school friends are often your lifelong friends, and their parents become “tíos” (uncles) and “tías” (aunts). You stay closely connected because you live in the same areas. In the U.S., it surprised me to learn that, for many, school friends aren’t always lifelong connections. Instead, people more frequently move around, and thus in and out of each other’s lives. While this can lead to a diverse range of friends, it feels less like the tight-knit community I was used to in Lima. But I finally connected with other parents at the neighborhood playground, sports games and kids’ birthday parties.
Surprisingly, in the U.S., the new worry that keeps me up at night is the idea of my kids leaving for college! In Latin America, living with your parents during college, until marriage, is common. The thought of sending my babies to live on their own at such a young age already gives me anxiety.
What I do love about living here is the neighborhood culture. I adore our suburban town, where we’ve met all the kids that are my children’s age. We’ve become good friends with neighbors because our kids go to the same school and it’s wonderful.
Heeyoung, 35, from NYC to Amsterdam, Netherlands
When I was 30, I quit my job and was single. I realized I could either stay in New York or change my environment completely and live abroad. Amsterdam was one of my favorite cities to visit, so I decided to do a month-long trial run of living there. It went well, so once the month was up, I came back to the U.S. and applied for jobs in the Netherlands. I scoured a list of Dutch companies that sponsors visas for job postings, and after a lot of dead ends and tears, I finally found a job that would sponsor me, and I moved to the Netherlands in July 2019.
One of the first things I noticed after moving was how everything in the Netherlands stops for good weather. The Netherlands is a rainy country, but on a sunny day, I swear the whole city stops whatever they’re doing and comes out to sit in the sun. I was shocked the first time my colleagues cancelled meetings and took the rest of the day off just because the weather was nice and they wanted to enjoy it. In fact, our managers actually encouraged it! I’m still trying to unlearn some of my Americanness when it comes to work/life balance.
Another surprising cultural observation: food spoils quickly. Bread goes bad within four days, and pasta sauce starts to sour after one week, because there are less preservatives in the food. Now, when grocery shopping, I buy food for only the next two to three meals.
There is a lack of diversity in the Netherlands, which is so different from New York City. I still sometimes find myself being the only Asian person in a public space. When COVID hit, I felt like I stood out even more, which made me nervous. In group gatherings, I found myself speaking as soon as possible, so everyone would hear my American accent; then I’d feel people’s attitudes soften toward me. But thankfully there was never a situation where I felt truly unsafe or threatened.
Michelle, 37, from DuBois, Pennsylvania, to Northern Ireland
After two years of waiting for my visa to be approved, my toddler and I finally joined my partner in Northern Ireland this past January.
Moving here was not always what I’d had in mind. I’m a sun worshipper and spent most of my adulthood living in places like Thailand and Spain. But I’ve come to appreciate how cozy Northern Ireland winters are, with a fire lit each evening to warm the house and keep out the ‘damp.’ Hand-knit wool socks are a total game changer for cold work-from-home days, and sticking a hot water bottle under the covers before bedtime makes the bed super inviting.
The language is a joy, but it took some time to get used to. There still seems to be a pretty distinct divide between the Catholic and Protestant communities, and people use coded phrases like ‘What primary school did you go to?’ or ‘What sports do you follow?’ to figure out which community you belong to.
But there’s also the incomparable gift of chat and hilarious sayings. Everything can turn into a joke. For example, last month when the Northern lights were visible, a colleague posted a photo with this message: ‘Wee Buster needed out for a Jimmy Riddle or I’d have slept through it.’ Sometimes I marvel at the fact that we’re all technically speaking the same language.
Also, beware of ‘I’m grand!’ — what a range that phrase has. It can mean good or fine or just trying to make the best of things. If the knight from Monty Python were Irish, the line would have been a cheery ‘Ach, it’ll be grand!’ as each of his limbs got hacked off. The phrase is both wonderful and bewildering.
Alissa, 42, from Cincinnati, Ohio, to Munich, Germany
This month was my one-year anniversary of living in Germany. My Berlin-born-and-raised husband and I met in the U.S. and we had always planned to move to Europe. Many years, and two kids later, he was finally offered a position within his company to lead the team in Munich.
During my wedding vows, I promised to learn German. Now living here, I’m finally making good on that. My German class has people from all over, including Ukraine, Yemen, Lebanon and Turkey. At first, we were strangers stumbling over introductions. But over time, I’ve been fascinated to seeing all our personalities shine through while speaking our new language. I think everyone should experience being a foreigner at some point in life. It is completely humbling and makes you more compassionate.
In Munich, I am constantly aware of our foreignness. When my kids are loud, I wonder if the neighbors think it’s normal or attribute it to their Americanness. But, overall, I’ve found that people here love children and are very friendly despite their reputation for stoicism. Everyone says ‘good morning’ to one another, and supermarket cashiers are always up for a chat. My next-door neighbor just rang our bell to give us a jar of homemade apple-cinnamon jam, and we stumbled together over niceties in Deutschglish.
I’m still in the honeymoon phase about public transportation — everything feels so accessible and well-connected. We recently got a cargo bike, and our preferred route to school is literally over the river and through the woods (and past the biergarten!). Of course, plenty of things drive me bonkers, like the amount of paperwork required to complete simple processes, and stores being closed on Sundays. But I hope to never stop recognizing how fortunate we are.
Naseem, 35, from Atlanta, Georgia, to Lisbon, Portugal
My mom is Black, and my dad is Iranian, and when I was a kid my family moved around different countries for my dad’s career. Even though we ended up in America, we all dreamed of living abroad again. When Trump was elected, being Black in America felt heavy and scary. My family and I wanted to feel the safety we felt when we lived in Europe, so my mom started searching for easy visas. She learned that Portugal had easy entry and is one of the safest countries in the world. My parents decided to move, and two months later — after getting out of a serious relationship — I joined them. Today my parents and brother live in Braga, and I live in Lisbon.
The first couple of months were hard because it was my first time living in a big city where I didn’t know anyone. My parents are a few hours away via train, but I have a big dog, so getting to them isn’t easy. I often felt lonely, and even though I was going to meetups and gatherings, I missed deep connections. I also didn’t study Portuguese before moving, so there was a big language barrier. I’m usually quite chatty, and all of a sudden, I felt isolated because I didn’t know how to say ‘I love your nails’ to the cashier. I eventually met my best friend on Bumble BFF, and Meetup.com was another good way to meet people. Then, once you have a few good friends, they introduce you to their friends, and things develop from there.
I put off learning Portuguese because I identify as a Black woman and know that racism exists everywhere. After making friends with a few Black Brazilians, I heard stories that made me apprehensive to learn Portuguese and be aware of what people might be saying about me. As tough as it was to not be able to chat with the locals, I needed some time to decompress from all of the race-related feelings I had left in the U.S. Now, two years later, I can understand conversational Portuguese and will be signing up for an intensive class this fall. I’m finally feeling ready to immerse myself in this culture.
I really admire the way people live here. They don’t try to fit you in a box because everyone’s out here doing their own thing. No one asks what you do for work, but instead they ask how you spend your free time. People prioritize fun, and I have learned to love how everything moves at a much slower pace. The country is also stunning. I’m still in awe of it.
Catherine, 35, from Montreal, Canada, to Innsbruck, Austria
I moved from Canada to Innsbruck, Austria in 2012. I officially came for my PhD but unofficially came to live in the mountains and live a romantic European fantasy. As you can imagine, that stayed a fantasy.
The first couple of months were a good kind of hard: learning a new language, figuring out how things worked, and trying to meet new people. But after a visit back home to Canada, I came back to the enveloping loneliness of living in a country where I felt no connection and had no understanding of the cultural norms prevalent in every interaction. As an example, small talk with strangers is something culturally deemed superficial and not worth the effort. But without it, how do you go from meeting strangers to having friends?
I was, depressed and alone, wondering what the f*ck I got myself into. Embarrassingly enough, the only reason I didn’t go back to Canada that I was too stubborn and proud to admit I had made a mistake. Luckily, after the depression subsided, I got active in the local sports community, and met people who welcomed me into their fold. They even had painfully simple conversations with me about the weather, to help improve my German. It took time, and it was hard! But now, 12 years later, I have a job, met my partner (who is from here) and have had many wonderful experiences. We are raising our young daughter as a little Austrian.
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Thank you so much to those who generously shared their stories! Would you move (or have you moved) to a different country? We’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences…
P.S. Our parenting around the world series and what it’s like moving from a big city to a small town.
(Photo by Rene de Haan/Stocksy.)
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