Just as it's difficult for the seasoned expat to remember how wrenching adjustment to life in a new culture can be, sometimes the novice expatriate is taken aback by the rigors of acclimation.

Jon and Jennifer Herrin relocated from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Heidelberg, Germany a couple of years ago. Jon, an elementary-school art teacher, had been trying for some time to get a teaching position with the U.S. Department of Defense schools in order to realize the couple's dream of living in Europe. Within weeks of the coveted job offer, the Herrins packed up and moved.

Jennifer reports: I was very surprised at the amount of culture shock I experienced, even though we have full access to the American community here! The world is so small these days that I really didn't expect much culture shock. So I was surprised when I got over here and found myself totally intimidated. I think a lot of that feeling was the timing of our arrival [September 2001]; we Americans were advised to "keep a low profile," so I was afraid to get out and go sightseeing. It's hard to keep a low profile with three young non-German-speaking kids, especially when you're fumbling with the money and trying to figure out exactly how to order in a restaurant.

The language is always a hurdle when relocating to a foreign country where English is not the first language, but there are other considerations, such as culture and practicalities of everyday life practices that need to be explained and become accustomed to.

From what I understand, the military has a lot of support systems and guidance set up for new families. But the civilian community doesn't have that organized support; we just have to ask lots of questions (after we figure out which questions to ask)!

I stumbled upon a class given on post called FLAG -- Families Learning About Germany. We met every day for a week and learned about lots of "little things" that can end up being the frustrating things about adjusting to a new country -- how to pay in a parking garage, how to sort the recycling, how to use the streetcar, how to keep the white laundry from turning grey in very hard water, etc.

But I didn't get into this class until I'd already been here almost four months -- it would have made a huge difference in my adjustment if I'd been told about this class immediately, as military families are.

One of the phases of acclimation not usually mentioned as a separate stage, although personally I found it to be months in the processing, is pre-acceptance incredulity. For instance, I recall an ordinary day spending time shopping at the village grocer's, baby in cart, thinking of nothing more than diapers. Without warning, my life situation suddenly appeared incredibly ludicrous and I entered a state of altered reality where I was honestly unable to believe that I was actually standing, tattered zlotys in hand, in a shop in some tiny hamlet in the Polish countryside.

Jennifer agrees: Yes, I have had the "walking disbelief" experience you mentioned! Last spring I was leaving a parents' meeting at my daughter's German school. I remember walking to the car and hearing the bells strike the hour in the town's old church clock. I got in the car and was driving home when it hit me: I was in Germany, a country in Europe, driving around at night, and I knew where I was going! I had just been to a meeting that was conducted in German -- never mind that another parent had to translate for me -- because my daughter was going to school with a bunch of German kids and was (somewhat) speaking German all day long!

On the other hand, life goes on much the same anywhere, I guess. I thought that living in Europe would be so glamorous, but a lot of it is the same old grind! I still do lots of laundry, I still chauffeur kids to school and birthday parties, I still have to remind the kids to brush their teeth and do their homework, I still worry about bills, my dog still sheds.

So why do people do it? Why do so many Americans pick up and move abroad, at least for a time, subjecting themselves to all sorts of shocks and differences?

We saw this move as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It's also a good deal in other ways: Jon's salary is higher than it was in Oklahoma, and because the government pays our housing and utilities, I'd finally get to be a stay-at-home mom.

Although it's never home, and it will always be different, there are some things we can take with us when we leave, the ways of life we've been exposed to, new things we tried and did not discard.

Some things I like better about being over here:
* Mandated recycling.
* The fact that people of all ages go out walking their dogs and riding their bikes every day and in all kinds of weather.
* No telemarketing calls or people ringing my doorbell to try to convert me to their religion.
* Less "consumerism." Don't get me wrong -- there are plenty of places to spend a lot of money. But the general feeling I get is that it's less important here to acquire things or to look a certain way.
* Bakeries!
* Turkish fast-food stands!
* Good chocolate!
* Cheap, delicious beer!
* Clean public bathrooms -- you're expected to pay about 20 cents, but it's definitely worth it.
* Our particular location -- we're not too far away from all the places I've wanted to go since I was a kid.
* Just the fact that we're doing something new and are showing our children more of the world.

We always intended for them to go to the "host country" schools -- early language acquisition for them is one of the reasons we wanted to move to Europe in the first place.

We love it and hope to stay here a long time. (I would like a Krispy Kreme donut, though!)