What You Gain, What You Lose: Life as an Expat in Thailand
September 2017. I stepped off the plane in Bangkok and a wave of humid air hit me first, thick with exhaust fumes and the scent of unfamiliar spices. The city throbbed with a frenetic energy: motorbikes wove through chaotic streets, vendors hawked their wares from crowded sidewalks, and skyscrapers glinted through the haze. It was sensory overload, a world away from South Africa. I thought I was ready for an adventure. Nothing really prepares you for swapping a comfortable life for the vibrant, sometimes bewildering, reality of Thailand.
The First Six Months
Growing up, some of us have a strong support system, others learn to fend for themselves early. But moving to another country throws everyone into the deep end at once. Even the most independent person struggles when the language, the customs, and the daily routines are all unfamiliar at the same time. My biggest piece of advice: make friends with locals. They hold the keys to this new world, and their support is invaluable.
My first six months were a whirlwind of adjustments and unexpected challenges. I hadn't grasped the concept of apartment deposits, so I ended up in a long stay hotel on the outskirts of the city, commuting daily on buses packed tight enough to qualify as a contact sport. Half of them looked held together by duct tape and prayer, which made every ride a small gamble on whether we'd actually arrive.
Finding an apartment came with its own learning curve. Landlords in Bangkok have their own set of requirements, and not having a local guarantor closed a lot of doors. After weeks of searching, I finally landed a tiny studio above a noodle shop, complete with a resident gecko and a view over a busy alleyway. It wasn't much, but it was mine.
Braai Withdrawal Is a Real Thing
The food was my first real culture shock. Forget missing Sunday roasts, braai withdrawal is a genuine ailment. I longed for the smoky smell of a fire, sizzling boerewors, and friends gathered around it. Thai food is incredible, but the sheer volume of new flavors and textures was overwhelming at first, and the smell of fish sauce alone nearly sent me packing. Seven years later, I still haven't come around on it.
Eventually I found my footing. Krapow moo krob, crispy pork with basil and chili, became a regular order, and tom yum gai, that tangy broth of lemongrass and galangal, turned into real comfort food. I've even worked up the nerve for fried insects and durian. The jury's still out on durian.
Learning the City
Coming from a smaller town, Bangkok's constant hum took some getting used to. Motorbikes weave through traffic day and night, vendors call out over each other, and the city never really goes quiet. Getting around is its own adventure. Taxis add up fast, the rickety buses are always an option, and for a genuinely local experience there's the songthaew, a converted pickup truck with bench seats running a rough version of a fixed route.
Figuring out which one to take is a skill in itself. I once hopped on one that veered off onto a narrow side road and kept going, further and further from where I meant to be. I spent two hours finding my way back through rice paddies and confused locals, armed with broken Thai, hand gestures, and pure luck.
The language barrier trips people up too. I've watched other foreigners get visibly frustrated when locals don't understand them, which always feels like a good reminder that we're guests here. Patience and humility go a long way, and even a clumsy attempt at Thai is usually met with a smile.
The Distance That Doesn't Get Easier
The hardest part of expat life isn't the traffic or the food. It's the distance. I've built a life full of good memories here, but I've also missed birthdays, family gatherings, and the chance to say a proper goodbye. My childhood dog, my grandfather, and more recently my gran all passed while I was on the other side of the world. My gran was my biggest supporter, and not being there for her is something I still sit with.
It's worth naming that honestly. Moving abroad is a rollercoaster, and the low points deserve as much space as the highlights. Let yourself feel the homesickness and the frustration alongside the joy and the excitement. Find something that helps you process it, journaling, a quiet temple, a call home. And notice the small wins too. Ordering food with confidence, navigating a new situation solo, making a local friend: all of that is real growth, even when it doesn't feel like it in the moment.
Would I Do It Again?
Absolutely. Amid all the challenges, I've learned more about myself, about other cultures, and about moving through the world with an open mind than I ever expected to. I've built a new life and a new community, and found strengths I didn't know I had.
So, would I do it all again? Without question. When do we leave?
Tips for Navigating the Expat Rollercoaster
Embrace the discomfort. Stepping outside your comfort zone is where the growth happens.
Find your tribe. Connect with other expats and locals who get what you're going through.
Practice self care. Protect your mental and emotional well being, not just your itinerary.
Stay connected to your roots. Nurture the relationships back home, even from a distance.
Be patient. Adapting to a new culture takes real time.
Celebrate the journey. Acknowledge your own growth and resilience along the way.
Moving overseas isn't always easy, but it changes you in ways worth going through. Pack your bags, embrace the unknown, and get ready for the ride.
