What living abroad taught me
Life abroad is around 60% magical and 40% blood, sweat, and tears.
Lately, I have been seeing a lot of articles and social media posts about how to move abroad, along the themes of:
“I left the USA and moved to Europe”
“How much money I saved to move to Korea”
“How to study and find work abroad”
Do a quick search anywhere, and you’ll find a lot more. It got me curious if it was just my algorithm or if there has been an influx of migration in recent years. As much as I want to research this more, I don’t really have the headspace and can’t just ask chatGPT without fact-checking.
So, why do people move and live abroad?
I think there are countless reasons: for love, education, family, work, war, or simply for the adventure. Unless you live under a rock, you know that the world has been in crisis and there are people from all walks of life considering moving someplace else. The common thread seems to be the search for a better quality of life—stability, safety, financial freedom, or whatever quality means to you.
When I left Manila and moved to Berlin in 2017, my goals were quite clear. I wanted to do postgraduate studies and then eventually find job opportunities in Germany or Europe. It has been 8 years since then, and I can say that living here has been about 60% magical and 40% blood, sweat, and tears.
I really want to tell you it is easy. But my passport is as brown as my skin, and reality does not align with the Pinterest-vision board version of life abroad. The bureaucratic hurdles are much higher when your passport is considered "weak" and when you come from a country infamous for visa overstays. I understand why, but it does not make it any less frustrating.
If you are planning to move elsewhere, whether temporary or long-term, you have to be well prepared. Not only financially, but also emotionally and mentally. I will always encourage anyone to live away from where they grew up, stepping away from our comfort zone adds value and gives fresh perspectives to our lives. Test the waters, have fun, and see if this kind of life is for you.
Here are some of the lessons I learned that might help you integrate into a new country. Everyone’s experience is different, so take it with a grain of salt.
Visas and bureaucracy
Life would center on your visa and residence permit. It’s just the way it is. You must know the benefits and limitations of your visa type—what kind of work you’re allowed to undertake, when it needs to be renewed, how long you can go for a vacation, and other important details.
I wish somebody told me about the crazy level of bureaucracy in Germany. The first 6 months were about figuring out how the system works and processing legal documents. Having comprehensive processes and systems is a good thing! It’s a lot better than stumbling through bigger grey areas and dead ends which you sometimes encounter in other countries’ systems. However, Berlin public offices are overloaded, and trying to book an online appointment is like a game. Checking at odd hours to refresh the booking page, sending a letter by fax or post, waiting months for a response, or having to trigger an entirely new process while waiting because the situation has changed — it’s not fun.
Before the pandemic, it was allowed to queue outside government buildings if there were no availabilities. On my third month here, I queued at 3:00 am to get my residence permit at the foreigner’s office, and there were people already waiting. Then, the workers there were grumpy. I know the situation now is still the same or maybe even worse.
It was jarring because I never had to do any of these in Manila. Life suddenly revolves around waiting for snail mail to arrive and finding appointments for everything—doctor, dentist, bank, insurance, apartment viewing, home repairs, etc. Managing these life admin things requires patience and a lot of organization. I’m used to it by now, although I imagine this can be overwhelming for the newcomers.
I don’t know how it is in other big cities, leave a comment and share your experience.
Context and miscommunications
Learning a new language, culture, and laws, are a big part of living in a foreign country. It’s the best way to integrate quickly and feel a sense of belonging. Even if the country speaks English, some colloquialisms only make sense to locals and context can get lost in conversations.
The Culture Map by Erin Meyer talked about high- and low-context cultures and how to navigate cross-cultural dynamics in a professional setting. It’s written for businesses but I think it also applies to day-to-day life when living abroad. Germany and the Philippines sit at opposite ends of that spectrum. Here, people are direct and clear—what you say is what you mean. On the other hand, the Philippines is a high-context culture, where communication is more indirect, relying on tone, gestures, and relationships.
This was something I had to learn and adapt quickly. The people we meet and work with abroad are so diverse and come from various backgrounds. It was so critical to navigate these contexts and differences to be able to connect and build relationships.
I remember this funny conversation with a colleague:
Them: “Do you want more food?”
Me: “I’m okay”, with a little hand wave
Them: “Huh? So, do you want more food?”
Me: “I’m good, maybe later”
Them: ???
What I really meant was, “No, thank you, I’m done”. I could have just said that, but I was so used to saying “I’m okay” and my friends would immediately understand it.
Finding friends and communities
When you move abroad, you lose the so-called village you grew up with and cherished all your life. I talk to my friends and loved ones online and exchange funny memes, but it’s not the same as going out for drinks, watching movies, or celebrating milestones. I was so excited to leave that I never realized how tough it would be to miss everything and everyone.
Berlin is a place where people come and go frequently. For those in their 20s, it’s a place to study, party, and experiment. Many of my classmates from my master’s program have already moved back to their home countries, and I have lost touch with them. For those over 30, most people are focused on work, relationships, or families.
There are lots of ways to meet and connect with people who share similar interests—clubs, pubs, meet-ups, or through apps. Yet, more often than not, these relationships tend to be fleeting and surface-level. You might form a deep connection with one or two people, but making lasting friendships—especially after 30—isn’t as easy as it once was. It requires intention and effort. And, with the added challenges of a language barrier and cultural differences, it can sometimes feel lonely and isolating.
It took me a while to build a new circle of friends that I trust and connect with. I found them through the Filipino community, parties, common friends, and fitness classes. It’s not entirely impossible and depressing! The community we form and foster abroad is different from those of our childhood and teenage years. And that’s okay! They’re just as meaningful in their own way.
Unlearning and shifting perspectives
Living abroad is a constant lesson in unlearning old habits and seeing the world through a different lens. It’s uncomfortable. It will test your limits. But that’s growth, and that’s a good thing.
I’m not the same person who left Manila in 2017. My views, my beliefs, my understanding of life—they’ve all shifted.
Moving abroad meant starting from zero. No one knew (or cared) about the schools I went to or the companies I worked for. Unless you graduated from Oxford or an Ivy League school, those details don’t always carry weight. What once felt like accolades and prestige could mean very little to someone else. That was a humbling reality check that pushed me to work even harder to prove my skills, be more assertive, and gain local experience.
Then there are the other challenges, like being on the receiving end of Asian hate, microaggressions, and sometimes standing out as the only person of color in a room. You’d think it gets easier, but it doesn’t. More often than not or depending on the situation, I ignore them and don’t snipe back. These situations are not worth spending energy on, I’d rather focus on things and people that truly matter.
I don’t love the word adulting, but moving to Berlin forced me to grow up in all possible ways. Uprooting my life and transplanting it into foreign soil has reshaped me entirely. It’s like having the training wheels ripped off and hoping for the best. It bruised my ego, sure, and that’s all part of the fun process.
Go, leave, do it
Whenever someone asks me about life abroad, I tell them: Go for it. At the same time, acknowledge that it would be tough.
I know people who migrated here and eventually returned home after a while. Whether you experience it for a few semesters, a summer, or a few years, you always have the option to say, “This isn’t for me.” And that’s perfectly fine. Walking away doesn’t mean failure, you were brave. You always learn something and that’s not nothing.
For now, I call Berlin home. I’m still in the process of integrating even after 8 years. I’m thriving and making it work because the alternative is going back to Manila, where opportunities are limited and a good life is only for the rich. However, lately, I catch myself wondering: Do I want to live here for the next 40 years? Some days, it feels like sunshine and rainbows. Other days, it’s just gray skies. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out eventually.
Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear from you. Write in the comments how your life changed when you moved abroad.
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Beautiful story. Thank you for sharing. I lived in Frankfurt for 3+ years about 10 years ago. I can confirm both the beauty of living abroad and the whole craziness of the bureaucracy in Germany.
Dee, I can relate to you in so many ways! I am German and moved abroad to Canada for a few years. There, at restaurants, I would also say "I'm okay, thanks" as a way of saying that I didn't want any more food or water. Always accompanied by a wave of my hand of a headshake. Now, back in Germany whenever I say that in a restaurant in Berlin, I either get greeted with a confused expression or more water (haha). It's crazy what living abroad does to you- even though I am German, I have fully adapted the Canadian way for that scenario and confuse people with my behavior.