plotting an escape route

One of my over-arching irrational fears of living abroad for a year is being stranded. I know how that sounds… believe me. But it’s true.

I know you’re thinking… Stranded? How do you mean?

Well you see, it all started when we went on a trip to Guatemala last year. We spent a weekend in Antigua and had an enormous (and beautiful) home that had a rooftop patio that overlooked the volcanos in the distance. A panoramic, unparalleled view of the natural wonders of the Guatemalan world. Absolutely tranquil.

Our first night there, we grabbed ourselves a bottle of wine and took it upstairs to enjoy the sun setting over the town below us. But as Kyle kicked his feet up and indulged in the view of the lava spewing out of the top of the highest peak, my imagination couldn’t help itself. And it took over into a downright spiral.

What would happen if that volcano decided to actually erupt?

What would we do if there was a mandatory evacuation?

How would get from Point A to Point B?

Who would we turn to for accurate information, a safe place to stay, a reliable form of transportation?

Hell, we couldn’t communicate with 90% of the people around us which would in turn… leave us stranded.

Don’t get me wrong, I think that it’s good to have a healthy dose of “what-if” mixed into your itinerary when planning to explore a new place. But for months after we got home from that trip, I couldn’t help but think of all that could have gone wrong. The variety of outcomes playing over and over in my head like scenes from a movie.

(I’m not a doctor, by a long stretch, but I’d be willing to guess that has something to do with some anxiety I’m harboring.)

Fast-forward a year. Kyle and I are now three countries deep into our year abroad. Literally living out of our backpacks and suitcases in countries all over the world. Lands completely unknown to us. And here I am dropping a pin to the closest local embassy and plotting an escape route.

So in order to:

A. Make light of my inner turmoil and…

B. Document this moment so that I can hopefully look back and give myself a little laugh…

I’ve decided to share some of my most irrational fears when it comes to living abroad for a year.

Being Stranded
If you really think about it, Kyle and I are pretty out of the loop.
Some of the homes we’ve stayed in had zero access to TV (and even if they did, we wouldn’t be able to understand the language coming out of the anchor’s mouth on the local news station).
Is there a storm brewing? Hope not.
Are we in danger of a volcanic eruption? Doesn’t feel like it.
Is the water still safe to drink? Surely!
Even the small things you don’t really consider- like what’s the equivalent to 911 in this country- is it 211 or wait, was that the last country we were just in?
And even if we do call emergency services (assuming the country has them) would they be able to speak English?
So what’s the solution?
Of course you read and research as much as you can. Download guidebooks with practical tidbits like Embassy Information, get an international phone plan…
and just stay out of countries with volcanos.
Getting Bedbugs
Yikes. Just thinking about this one gives me the heebie-jeebies. And anyone who really knows me knows that I have this thing about sleeping in beds that aren’t mine.
So, what do I do the moment we check-in to a new place? I make my rounds and check the bed for bugs.
Have I ever seen a bed bug? Not that I’m aware of.
Do I know what I’m looking for? Not really.
So what’s the solution?
Again, do your research ahead of time and read reviews.
Plus, Kyle swears he knows the proper way to check for bed bugs, and I guess worst case scenario, you can get rid of them… right?
Pickpockets
If you have ever read a guidebook (literally any guidebook), about any place in the world, it warns you to be mindful of pickpockets. Places like trams, metro lines, overpopulated tourist attractions, are grazing grounds for organized crime and theft.
Which makes total sense.
But let me tell you. I don’t care where I am, I’m always on alert.
Is that random guy talking to his Nonna three yards behind me a little sketch? You never know… Clutch the purse.
Could someone at this restaurant jump across the table and grab our things even though we’re in a booth completely by ourselves? I’ve seen crazier things happen… Wear the purse.
(But will I hop into a car with complete strangers for dinner? Absolutely- that’s a different story.)
So what’s the solution?
Honestly, it’s almost comical because I am never carrying anything of any real value with me. A thief would be extremely disappointed in the nonexistent loot they’d find. But nevertheless, I wear my purse like a badge of honor every day and in every place we visit.
And if it gets snatched, I guess I could always buy a new one.

At the end of the day, I realize that bad things can happen anywhere. They can happen while we’re enjoying a glass of wine in Italy or taking the metro in Barcelona. They could also happen back at home in Walmart or at a football game.

And I think that’s where my calm comes from.

Knowing that all of these fears could happen to anyone, anywhere in the world. And if the day comes where one of these irrational fears comes to fruition, then we’ll deal with it the best way we know how.