Remembering the Honeymoon

We recently celebrated our first anniversary of living in Uruguay. It has been an amazing year. I think time passes faster in the southern hemisphere, or maybe it's an illusion due to my advancing age.

We are now in the process of preparing for a move to Piriapolis to save $$ and to get away from the din of the city for a few months.

I thought I would take a break from packing to begin my series on the five stages of culture shock. What better time to reflect on the honeymoon phase than at the first year mark.

We arrived in Montevideo on a balmy Wednesday morning last March at 4:15am after a 30-hour travel odyssey with our small terrier. After a few hours of well needed sleep at the hotel, we kicked off our adventure with a lively parrilla lunch in Ciudad Vieja at the Mercado del Puerto.

We were instantly captivated with the city, the food, and the people. The first few weeks at the hotel were like a dream. Playing the tourists, we tried all of the great restaurants, explored the streets on daily walks with the dog, tested our language skills (or lack thereof) and stretched our wings for the first time in a long while.

How invigorating it was to be in a strange place with no idea what the next minute, hour or day would bring. We knew no one. We had never been here before--we moved here sight unseen. Everything was new and exciting.

Even after moving into our apartment and developing a daily routine, I still felt as though I was on some sort of a high. I was amazed at my patience when trying to get things done, such as setting up Internet access for our bank account and working through the minutiae of the residency process. Nothing seemed to fluster me.

Our circle of friends grew and we felt like we were settling in nicely to our newly adopted home.

Then, without warning, reality started to seep in and the veneer of my seemingly idyllic existence began showing signs of wear...