I am no expert on the topic of the stages of culture shock.
Not at all.
I’m truly just walking through it. Walking through these first years of culture shock.
Navigating the unknown and walking through some big, ambiguous block of new culture awareness, self-discovery and spiritual growth.
I wish I knew more, had prepared more, understood more what the stages of culture shock could look like. Oh, I knew it would come. I knew we would go through it. But it felt like such a mysterious title for what seemed so obvious. Of course, we would experience some kind of shock… we were moving across the world!
So right now, with a few questions from all of you, I’m striving to take a step back from everything and get a good look at this whole, magnificent topic of culture shock.
What does it look like for me? Because although, I’m no expert… I’m navigating these wild waters and maybe some of you are too.
Or you are just plain curious about what it’s like to really go through something so dramatic, fun and crazy as inserting yourself within another country, another people, another culture. Not just for the short term but for the long term.
For me, it started the night this picture was taken. We had family pictures taken with my family the weekend we left for France.
It was a wonderful day but, in the days before we flew, I KNEW major, major life change was coming.
I felt it deeply in my soul.
Felt it for me, having moved a lot in my life, having walked the whole “new kid” thing many times and yet anticipating that this was bigger than anything I’d ever experienced before. Knowing this transition was going to be more than I could handle on my own.
Felt it for my girls, for their sweet trust in us and their ability to smile in the midst of great change. Change they had no real concept of yet.
Felt it for Jeremy, who was leading this little family on the journey of a lifetime. Felt his excitement and his cautious breath in as it all began for real. Holding on for dear life.
I felt change, transition, and struggle to my bones.
The night that picture was taken, I got literally sick to my stomach. Multiple times. I spent that night on the floor of the bathroom in my mom’s house just trying to process quickly what I knew was coming. #ohdearbetsy we are really doing this…
2 years of build up to just get on an airplane and leave US soil. Planning. Interviewing. Raising support. None of the challenges we’d faced so far were even visible to me at that moment in the face of the challenge ahead of us.
And right then, culture shock began.
Stages of Culture Shock
I think I skipped the honeymoon stage altogether because I had walked the path of transition so many times before. And because I knew this was big, I jumped right in. No rose colored glasses or dreamy, romantic ideas in my head. Just the reality of what I knew we would face.
And I think for France, I jumped all the way to neutral zone. (you can click on that to see another “normal” pattern for culture shock with many of the feelings I describe in the coming paragraphs)
I experienced the anxiety, chaos, and confusion of diving head first into another culture. We immediately got the girls signed up for school, started school ourselves and life took off from there. Between training for a marathon, learning French and guiding our girls through French school we didn’t have time for a honeymoon phase. By the end of the year in France, I think I was on the upswing of the curve. I was again feeling discovery, reorientation and even anticipation. Just keep going…
But in the back of my mind, I knew it was a bubble. It was all pretend. The joy and cultural assimilation I was experiencing was false. I really wasn’t in that upswing… in fact, I might be right back in that honeymoon stage I thought I’d jumped over ready to start all over on the whole entire curve.
Why? Because another move was coming. Another moment in the states of culture shock was coming my way. France was just a short stopping point on our journey. It really wasn’t a culture I would be in long enough to mentally settle in to or connect with. The entire time I knew it was temporary.
A move to Africa was looming. That’s where I hit the wall. Hit the end of me. Hit this thing called culture shock for real.
I was bracing for impact and realizing that I could deny another move, a HUGE HARD move, no longer. It had arrived.
By this point, the thought of packing caused a physical reaction. Pain, actually.
The stress of balancing belongings, suitcase weight, changing addresses and meeting new people was pretty much at an all-time high for me.
My family was saying goodbye again to really wonderful people and very fabulous places. We were again going from the oldies in language school to the newbies on the field in Senegal. We were tiny fish jumping into a massive pond. A pond where no one knew us and we were babies in need of everything.
We were leaving our cute apartment, our safe language school, and our convenient grocery store for fully unknown places in West Africa.
So we flew. again. And that was about as intense a day of travel can be.
Again, I think we skipped over what should have been a honeymoon time. We arrived at a not so great time of year between international school starting, team members arriving back to the field, rainy season in full force… we jumped into life here quickly and without fanfare.
Immediate culture immersion. At three weeks in, we didn’t know what to expect each day other than to expect the unexpected.
We looked for housing, got the girls started in school, found grocery stores, visited the local church, met the expat community, and did a whole lot of sweating, itching and shaking our heads.
We had another small move in country about 8 weeks in. A small car accident. Residency card issues…. all kinds of issues.
Every single day a miracle of survival. The stages of culture shock so real.
We blew through disorientation and disappointment. We couldn’t stay there long or we knew we’d fail.
We moved past emptiness because, well… we have to trust that God is at work even when we can’t see.
I’d say at six months in, we were sitting comfortable in the neutral zone.
And truthfully, at 8 months in Africa (20 months on the field including our time in France), we are still in neutral zone.
We still have some days of chaos… days my friends have names for. Names like “Senegal wins” days or “Buy a ticket home” days.
I had a Senegal win day just this week. But they are further and far between.
I’m seeing glimmers of the up swing coming our way. We have many more days now of seeming low productivity as we just accept, watch and learn what is happening around us. We have moments of discovery as we find new places, learn new words and experience new cultural victories.
We have moments of inner motivation. Moments that cheer us on to keep going. Moments that remind us that culture shock is REAL, hard core and very much our overseas experience so far.
We have moments of anticipation and even dreaming of what can happen when we have more time under our belts and more experience to guide our days.
Slowly…
And then something happens, something crumbles… I plug a 110v outlet into a 220v adapter and poof… kill a brand new electric pencil sharpener sent on a container from America for Elayna’s birthday. Yeah. THOSE moments when you realize… wow. I am NOT at home here yet and it feels like I will never remember it all, the ins and outs of life here, the little tricks that help us through the day seem insurmountable and discouraging. The failures are costly and the lessons painful.
The language barrier seems insurmountable. Not being able to correctly communicate with another mom or a store owner or… anyone… is harder than I ever dreamed. So much I want to say and so little words to share.
But then Jeremy preaches in French and I see the complete miracle happening before my eyes. God using a shy, struggling kid to spread the Good News in another language, in another culture.
And I marvel at how this whole culture shock thing daily teaches me to reach out to my Savior, to desperately depend on Him for every single thing and to call out His Name for each need. That without Him, NONE of this would be possible and I for sure would not face another ride on the culture shock curve. No way. ever.
Knowing just as we settle in, another curve will come… a curve that will bring us back stateside to reenter life there for furlough and fund-raising… just in time to head back here to ride the curve again.
The cultures shift, the relationships change and the skills needed to navigate it all are many.
This first term is riddled with challenges and the biggest hurdle is called culture shock. We will hop around it like a ping pong ball, back and forth, all around for years to come. Trying to navigate marriage, parenting and faith all through the scope of where we are at on the curve at that moment in time.
Sometimes we have to sit back and think, “Ok, wow… where am I at exactly? I thought I was here… but this just felt like I’m there…”
We have to let God speak to us in new ways and trust Him to help us through the day.
Feelings of being overwhelmed, sensing depression, growing anxiety and a million other red flags to hone in on each day.
This culture shock thing is big. And the stages of culture shock are real. And every one walks it in different ways. We process in different ways and we navigate to the beat of our own drum.
No one can really help me walk it… me and Jesus. Walking through blank space.
Yet, I can’t walk it without those around me. I NEED people. I need community and support and people in the mess with me. I need a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to and a friend to tell me this is all normal.
Culture Shock for us. For the girls. For many years ahead.
What great advice do I have for those walking the stages of culture shock with me?
What amazing tips do I have to help you through the process of acclimation to your new culture?
Cling close to Jesus. Do not skimp on your time with him. Do not neglect your relationship with God. Memorize scripture. Read it out loud. Journal your prayers to see how far you’ve come and to see God answer them one by one.
Truthfully, my God shall supply ALL your needs. All things ARE possible through Christ. Even what He is asking you to do. Even that.
There is more I would tell you… 22 things actually. Read books. Get information. Never compare your journey with another expat. Be real and honest about where you are and what you are feeling. Connect with your team members. Find a community online like Velvet Ashes or A Life Overseas. Do not isolate yourself or let loneliness take over. Find a counselor to help you process the changes in your life.
Find tools that will help you and stick with it. Just Keep Going!!
But at the very core… Jesus. Hold on to Him. He is your firm foundation when everything, and I mean EVERYTHING else is shifting sand.
A few other articles you might like:
4 Ways to Stay Content as an Expat Mom
10 Tips for Expats Who Want to Stay Well
So, to my friends walking the wild road through the stages of Culture Shock, I’d love to hear your story. Feel free to comment here or on facebook or instagram. I love connecting with you and your stories encourage all who read them.
You aren’t alone. We are truly in these stages of culture shock together.
For those who are watching someone go through the stages of culture shock, I hope this helps you pray.
Maybe you learned something new or felt challenged to pray in a new way for those living and working overseas.
I’d love to hear your thoughts as well!
When Overthinking Reminds Us That God Sees Everything
I have tasted a little of your experience.
My husband’s job sent us to Strasbourg France for 2-1/2 years (it was God’s plan) Our kids were 6 and 7 when we landed in France. School was the hardest. You have had your girls in French school so no more needs to be said.
There were times that I felt that if we stayed in France for 5 more minutes, my soul would die. We felt the darkness and oppression constantly.
After 2-1/2 years, my husband had completed his assignment and the company was sending us back to Ohio. I sincerely prayed to God to block going home if He was not finished the work in us that was meant to happen in France.
I had learned, I had changed, I had been broken, shattered, and rebuilt. God put me through that process because He loves me. I learned the power of praying in tongues. It changed my world. I learned to whisper in the dark early morning as a new scary day was starting “ I trust You Jesus”.
Metamorphosis is an interesting word.
Even Jesus had to go through a metamorphosis (His earthly life and the cross) to become a sacrifice for our sins, and our risen, victorious over satan, Beloved Saviour).
Blessings.
BTW, I’m the lady that yelled at you on the escalator at Orlando 2019 “Jenilee Goodwin, I love your blog!!!) 💛🌸
Oh my I was glad to find this. We moved to China last year. When we left the States, I was all amped up for our awesome adventure! And most of it was good. But much of it was hard. We have a fabulous church group which is amazing and an inspiration for me. But never did I anticipate some of the little life things that are just SO hard here! And we chose to live further from the central expat area which worked out financially for us when my husband was on reduced salary for a year while we waited on government to take their time with his paperwork. But it has made it that much harder – far from things. And I spent most of last year taking one hourly step in front of the other. What’s for dinner? No idea. Learn the language? Uhhh…. Get the kids out the door to anything on time, yea right. Dentist? Ummm do we even have insurance?My brain felt like a rubber ball. Even transportation is a stressor. Goodbye mommy minivan and spacious parking spaces at the supermarket, hello two parents, four kids, navigating INSANE driving on electric bicycles – oh and the police because they are technically illegal but the only way to efficiently get around (and the police never cared until a couple months after we moved there and this whole crack down started go figure). Just going anywhere on the bikes is mentally exhausting because you have to be so ultra aware of everyone around you. Anyway, I had started to feel better just before we went home this summer for 5 weeks. And I remembered the joys of washing machines bigger than a sink (and INSIDE the house) and (wait for it) DRYERS, and dishwashers, and Minivans WITH ELECTRIC DOORS (which I did have before, but sometimes it’s hard to really appreciate something until it’s gone), one stop shopping, Amazon two day shipping and free returns, clothes- oh clothes and good shoes- can you believe finding clothes here is hard? Very hard. And shoes? Two months and they fall apart. Anyway, coming home a couple days ago was a very different experience then a year ago. I am glad and very thankful to be here. But I mourned leaving the US this time. I will miss my mom (who I now realize is not in good enough health to come visit like had been the plan), and modern convinces. I’ll miss Christmas and Thanksgiving (at least how the excitement of the holidays permeates our culture – commercial or not, when it’s not there, it feels so empty). I know now what is going to be hard. It helps. We brought several bags of clothing and more of other items like BBQ sauce and coconut oil. But I know. And I fight the anxiety. It is real. I cannot explain it completely. I try to embrace China. But I haven’t quite found my home here yet. Home in the sense it is that place where life is predictable and comfortable and safe. And it’s hard to feel like nowhere is home.
yes to all of that. We just returned for our second term and it is all hitting again in new ways. And yes, getting on the plane to return was so much harder than I expected. Thank you for your transparency. Love that we all get to walk this together!
Thank you for sharing your experiences AND for the clear, accurate culture shock stages visual. I have lived overseas on and off for over a decade and this rollercoaster is still intense sometimes. It’s nice to hear other people and how they handle it.
Steph
Thank you for sharing your journey! It’s so encouraging to learn from others who are a little farther ahead on this road.
I’m glad it encourages you! I think culture shock is a huge road that begins much earlier than we expect and lasts longer than we hope. 🙂 So glad we can all journey it together!
Thank you! I appreciate your honesty and “real-ness” in your posts! I’m still in my first year here. I didn’t think I would face culture shock as I’d spent a total of a year and a half in this country before and already had a basic grasp of the language. But…making this home and plugging into this long-term role is very different than the several-month stays, in a totally different role, that I had done before. And I’m finding that getting from “a basic grasp of the language” to being able to fluently communicate is a slow and tedious process. ‘Tis a rich, humbling time when I often find myself at the very end of my rope…and discover God’s grace there. Anyway…yes. I really appreciated your post!
I am always fascinated to read about your experiences. You walk a walk I do not have the strength to do and you have a wonderful family to walk with you! As I sit in my comfortable American life and watch the glimpses you share on Instagram and your blog I think about how i would live in your shoes and they are giant shoes! God has given you an amazing sense of humor to deal with the sometimes insane situations you end up in and the strength to trust that you will get through it and things will become more normal. Keep sharing as you continue your walk, even when it’s two steps forward and three steps back!
lol yes, sometimes it for sure feels like 2 steps forward, 3 steps back! but slowly, petite a petite, we will keep moving forward in the plan God has for us. In HIS timing, not our own. Thank you for your encouragement. I always enjoy your comments, thoughts and questions!