When people think about volunteering abroad, they usually picture the good parts first. And there are plenty of those. But nobody really warns you about the hard parts, the ones that catch you off guard, the ones you have to quietly work through on your own. So that's what this is about: the honest side of volunteering abroad, and how I personally got through it.
First things first: if you've never been away from home alone before, choosing to do a volunteering project in another country already says something about you. You're stronger than you think, even if it doesn't feel that way yet.
For me, the difficulty started earlier than I expected. Not when I arrived, but the moment I said goodbye to my family and stepped onto the bus alone. That's when it got real. What did I do? I put my headphones in, let myself feel whatever I was feeling, and by the time the music ended I was ready. Sometimes that's all it takes.
The moment you arrive at your destination is something else entirely. There's this sudden rush of "I'm actually here. I'm actually doing this." And that feeling, that quiet pride in yourself, carries you through more than you'd expect.
One of the things that scared me most before leaving was not knowing the people I'd be living with for two months. What if we didn't get along? It's a completely normal fear. I was lucky: we clicked almost immediately. But I want to be honest here because it doesn't always work out that way. If you find yourself struggling with a roommate, the first step is always to talk it out directly. Communication solves more than you'd think, and your coordinator is there for the moments it doesn't.
Another thing I didn't handle perfectly: money. The project covers your basics, but managing what you're given responsibly takes more thought than I gave it. I ended up running short near the end because of a misunderstanding I could have avoided by simply asking. So ask. Before making any decisions you're not sure about, talk to your coordinator. It sounds obvious, but when you're excited and in a new place, it's easy to skip that step. Don't.
Then there's the homesickness. It comes in waves and it hits differently for everyone. For me, the hardest part wasn't missing my family or friends. It was missing my dog. But here's the thing: after a few weeks of living, cooking, laughing, and getting into various kinds of trouble with your fellow volunteers, something shifts. They become your family too. A second one. The kind you didn't plan for but wouldn't trade. We did everything together, including, on one memorable occasion, getting kicked out of a castle. But that's a story for another time.
The one hard part I haven't faced yet is the goodbye. And I already know it's going to be the hardest one of all. But I also know we'll find a way to see each other again. That's the thing about the people you meet through experiences like this: they don't just disappear when the project ends.
You can do this. Whatever the hard parts turn out to be for you, you'll get through them. I promise.