From Tourist to Temporary Local: Living and Learning Abroad

When I first stepped off the plane in Barcelona, everything felt surreal. The sunlight was warmer, the streets older, the language faster. I pulled out my phone to navigate to my apartment and tried not to look like a lost tourist—even though that’s exactly what I was. But something shifted over the months that followed. I stopped checking Google Maps every ten minutes. 

I started ordering food in Spanish without second-guessing myself. Eventually, I even gave directions to someone else. That’s when I knew I had crossed a threshold. I wasn’t just a visitor anymore. I was something else: a temporary local.

Living abroad isn’t like traveling. It’s deeper, messier, and far more rewarding. You begin to adopt the rhythms of a new place, to understand its subtleties, to build routines in foreign soil. 

It changes you. In this post, I want to explore what it means to go from being a tourist to a temporary local—and how that shift transforms not only your experience abroad, but your understanding of the world and yourself.

The First Few Weeks: Wide-Eyed and Overwhelmed

The beginning of any study abroad experience is intense. Everything feels new—and it is. You’re figuring out public transportation, grocery stores, class schedules, and how to politely decline street vendors. Even small tasks feel monumental because you're doing them all in a new language and culture.

I remember how exhausting it was. After a week, I was homesick, jet-lagged, and frustrated that I couldn’t find peanut butter anywhere. But I also remember the awe. The way the Gothic Quarter came alive at night. The first time I understood a joke in Spanish. The joy of discovering a tiny café that became my weekend ritual.

This is the chaotic beauty of the early phase. You’re overloaded with input, and your brain is working overtime to process everything. It’s uncomfortable—and absolutely necessary. Because every awkward mistake, every small win, is the foundation for what comes next.

Building a Life: Routine, Routines, Routines

What separates a tourist from a local is not just time—it’s routine. Tourists hop from site to site. Locals have places to be. The turning point in my experience came when I stopped planning every day like an itinerary and started living them like a normal person. I found a gym. I bought groceries every Monday. I had a favorite study spot in a university library that overlooked the city.

There’s power in building routines abroad. They root you in the culture. They teach you what locals care about, how they live, what pace they move at. You start understanding not just how the city works—but why. And more importantly, you start to see yourself differently. Not as an outsider peering in, but as someone learning to belong.

This shift doesn’t erase your identity. You’re still a guest in another country. But it does allow you to move with greater awareness and respect. You become more than a traveler—you become a participant in the daily life of a new community.

Language, Culture, and Connection

Language is the biggest door between you and the world you’ve entered. Even if you arrive fluent, there’s still slang, tone, and cultural nuance to decode. If you arrive with only the basics, like I did, the task can feel daunting. But every conversation, every mispronunciation, every awkward laugh—it all adds up.

I made it a mission to learn through immersion. I watched Spanish TV with subtitles. I chatted with baristas. I asked my professors for feedback when I presented in class. Bit by bit, I started understanding more than just words—I started understanding people.

That’s the heart of the shift from tourist to local: connection. When you understand the language, you understand the humor. The frustrations. The pride. You’re no longer just observing culture—you’re living inside it. And that opens up friendships, insights, and opportunities that no guided tour could ever offer.

When It’s Time to Leave

Just as you start to feel like you belong, the semester ends. Suddenly, you're packing suitcases and saying goodbyes. It’s heartbreaking in a way you can’t prepare for. Because leaving isn’t like returning from vacation—it’s like moving away from a home you built piece by piece.

But this is also the gift of the experience. You don’t go back the same. You return home with new habits, new stories, new perspectives. The world feels both larger and more familiar. You start to see your own culture with fresh eyes. And you carry with you a quiet confidence—the kind that comes from having built a life, however temporary, in a place where you once knew nothing.

Becoming a temporary local is more than a travel goal—it’s a personal transformation. It teaches patience, humility, and open-mindedness. It makes you braver, more empathetic, more curious. And it leaves you with a truth that stays long after the trip is over: that home isn’t just a place. It’s also something you can build, anywhere.