8 Myths About Our Gap Year We’d Like to Correct

A family with three young boys, traveling the South America, one backpack per person, no job. Was it relaxing? Terrifying? Life-changing? Read on to find out.
I look at life as an experiment. We think we know what we want and what choices will get us there. And sometimes we’re right. But when life proves us wrong, there is an opportunity to grow.
That’s why one of my favorite things to write and think about are those assumptions that seemed intuitive, but were nevertheless debunked by real-world experience. I’ll be writing about eight of those misconceptions, or “myths,” regarding our recent sabbatical.
We spent a year traveling all over South America. That meant quitting my job, pulling the kids out of school, and putting our house up on Airbnb. Quite the experiment.
The people in our lives made predictions about how we would fare, positive and negative. We also had our own ideas about how it would play out and what it would feel like. Here is what we found out.
Myth #1: We came away with a favorite country.
Short answer: We did not.
It is the first question everyone thinks to ask when they want us to open up about our travels. Which country was our favorite? I should have honed my elevator speech.
But how does one choose a favorite? Here’s a sample of what I’m likely to respond with:
I suppose Brazil would be pretty far up there. It was a little paradise on earth (provided you didn’t have to interact with the bureaucratic state or stick your hand in a nest of fire ants). But Bolivia was particularly fascinating. In fact, the cost of living was so low in Bolivia, I could have just stayed and never worked another day in my life. But Chile, with its volcanic landscape, including Torres del Paine National Park, was gorgeous and breathtaking. Our farm stay there was probably our favorite. Ecuador was also sublime and our trip there was packed with adventure (mostly the good kind).
Lower down on our list were Colombia and Costa Rica. Not because we didn’t love them, quite the opposite. But we already visited those places once or twice before and they were at the end of the trip. So I guess they packed less of a punch this time.
All that to say, if you pose the question, be prepared to receive a long-winded, unsatisfying response.
Myth #2: One backpack per person was a hardship.
Short answer: It was actually quite lovely.
When some friends at work saw a picture of our small pile of luggage, they teased me for it. You’ll be texting us to come rescue you, one ribbed.
Despite what you would imagine, our meager selection of clothes—I could flip a coin to choose my t-shirt—was a blessing, not a curse. In fact, a few months in, we set aside a pile of items that we were annoyed with ourselves for bringing and sent them home. All they did was make it more difficult to zip the backpack.
In fact, coming home to overstuffed closets and dressers was and is the real nuisance. Liuan and I talk of spending another couple weekends to “Kondo” our home—something we already did extensively before we left. I spend a lot of time finding places and building storage for new things, fixing broken things, and throwing out old things. A year of having a mere backpack to keep track of and take care of was lovely.

Myth #3: We were always on edge, trying to avoid danger.
Short answer: We could let our guard down most of the time.
Sure, there were a few tense moments. A guy on a motorcycle cut me off and tried to mug me at knifepoint in Cali. On a rural Ecuador highway, police threatened me with prison if I didn’t pay them an exorbitant bribe. Those stories tend to grab an audience better than talking about all the waterfalls we played in. But they grossly misrepresent our daily experience.
I don’t think any country in the world is plagued by danger from border to border. It’s usually only in certain places.
Of course, there are areas where tourists don’t belong. Whether it’s sketchy neighborhoods or border regions or hard-to-access patches of jungle. You’ll get in trouble if you assume every square inch of this earth is your playground. But most places pose no unusual level of risk.
We tended to be more on guard while in transit—bus stations and such. We took common precautions in cities notorious for petty crime, and researched which neighborhoods were safest for tourists. In the first few days of our gap year in Rio de Janeiro, we were told by a local on the beach at dusk that we shouldn’t be there. But mostly, we didn’t feel the need to take precautions beyond the ones we would habitually take at home. Don’t go to the bathroom at a restaurant and leave your cellphone on the table. Don’t run into the street without looking both ways. Etc.
Myth #4: We are an exceptionally brave family for traveling to South America.
Short answer: We probably have the same level of fear and anxiety as the average person.
I can’t say I mind people thinking we’re brave. But the degree to which that’s true is probably exaggerated.
We travel to countries that many would be afraid to go to, it’s true. (Colombia happens to be one of our all time favorites, despite what I said earlier.)
The truth is, right before a trip, Liuan and I feel a twinge of anxiety about the risks too. That’s normal. But we have two advantages. One is that we have had plenty of travel experiences that have forced us to modify the “certain doom” belief that many have about non-Western, non-English speaking countries.
The other is language. We both learned Spanish in early adulthood and practiced it throughout the years. Liuan is also fluent in Chinese. Being able to communicate is half the battle in staying out of harm’s way. Just like here, people gossip when unsavory things happen. They’ll let you know where it’s safe or unsafe to go without asking.
But seriously, just in case you think I’m being modest, here are just a few of the common things that trigger my anxiety—turbulence, police cars, the doctor’s office, social gatherings, public speaking, bees, a large centipede in the bathtub, a letter from the city, the water bill, dirty toilet seats, getting cancer and dying young, living too long and running out of money and being the last person alive… I could go on. But traveling to Brazil or Colombia and immersing myself in nature’s pleasures is nothing to be afraid of. At least once we settled in.
Actually, quitting my job was probably the scariest part.

Myth #5: Reverse culture shock was inevitable after a year away.
Short answer: Beyond the first evening layover in Orlando, we felt no culture shock.
Reverse culture shock is real. If you don’t already know, culture shock is feeling lost and disoriented in a new place and culture. Reverse culture shock is feeling disoriented when you come back home, especially after being gone for an extended period. I definitely felt extreme reverse culture shock in the past, most notably after a college semester in Mexico.
But this time, coming home just felt like waking up from a dream. That is to say, we picked up where we left off. The past year didn’t seem real. We dug right back into our home life without the anticipated dissonance. Weird.
I have some theories about why it turned out that way:
- We anticipated reverse culture shock, so reverse psychology made it not so.
- Liuan and I, and even the boys to a lesser extent, had already experienced reverse culture shock after prior travel experiences, providing some immunity.
- Liuan and I have lived our routine long enough that a year away didn’t manage to fade the deep ruts of our gray matter.
Whatever the case may be, it’s impossible to predict what you’ll feel about something in the future.
Myth #6: The kids soaked up the language in a matter of months.
Short answer: I think the adults improved our Spanish and Portuguese more than the kids.
I’ve certainly heard of, and even met, kids that learned a new language from scratch in very short order. Theoretically, any child should be capable of it. We had hoped by the end of our year in mostly Spanish-speaking countries they would have become legitimately multi-lingual.
Alas, nothing of the sort happened. Part of it might be a matter of personality. Our kids tend to be shy about trying. More likely, it comes down to necessity. They didn’t need to learn it.
If we had enrolled them in a non-English speaking school for a year, maybe it would have been different. Though we did try to immerse them, we couldn’t find enough of those experiences to fill even a slim majority of the time. They could lean on us to manage the logistics of daily life, and it was rare that they had to independently interact with others. We were very proud of the moment in Chile when our oldest got up the guts to ask the waitress for a replacement fork in Spanish.
In short, gaining competency would have required more intentionality. It doesn’t just happen.
Myth #7: South America is all jungle and mountains.
Short answer: Like everywhere else, a lot of the continent is flat, boring farmland. But the jungles and mountains are what grabs your attention.
“Watch out for the boa constrictors!” our chimney sweep called out over his shoulder after cleaning our chimney to the tune of Chim-Chim-Cheree and hearing about our planned gap year. Jungle and mountains certainly steal the show when it comes to people’s imaginations about South America. They are where the coolest and most frightening animals prowl and slither. It’s where the narcos make their camps. It’s where the remaining isolated societies live. And, let’s face it, those landscapes are the most photogenic.
But we’ve taken enough long haul bus rides to know that a large portion of South America is flat farmland or steppe. More like a ride through central Illinois or Nebraska than the Land Before Time. That was a bit surprising to us, even though we should have known better.
Also surprising: Uruguay. You (referring to my non-South American readers) probably can’t conjure even a single impression of that country. I barely know how to pronounce it in English because I never hear anyone talk about it. So it must be jungle, right? Wrong! Mountains? Also wrong! It’s mostly farmland with a couple midsize cities and a bunch of cute little towns. It kind of reminded me of Wisconsin, both for it’s chill agricultural vibe and for the quaint tourist towns with modestly upscale dining. Who would have thought?


Myth #8: We had endless free time.
Short answer: Long-term travel is a lifestyle, not a vacation. The time fills up quickly.
This was probably my biggest misconception. A whole year getting six days off for every one day of contracting work. I thought we would have time to do everything we ever wanted!
In fact, time marches on and that year was over before we knew it. I could produce a whole counter-list of places that we skipped due to lack of time. It would outnumber the list of places we visited.
Travel planning takes a surprising amount of time. If you travel slow and stay in places longer, it’s less of a factor. But you still have to always plan a few steps ahead. “Onward travel” visa requirements force your hand, even if you would rather just play it by ear. Planning our tour of Patagonia and southern Chile, with stays lasting three to seven days, was a part-time job.
You also don’t cease to be a parent just because you’re traveling. We have three little boys. Healthy meals require planning, trips to the store, preparation time and clean up. There’s always laundry to be washed; more frequently because, as I mentioned, everyone only has two t-shirts. On top of it all, we were responsible for their education.
We certainly had more free-time than back home. Much more. But it wasn’t endless.


One Thing We Got Right
Our sabbatical was filled with the unexpected. Just on the level of geography, each new country was nothing like we imagined. The experience of leaving our lives behind surprised us both in what changed and what did not.
But our main goal was to carve out a special time in our young family’s life that would bond us through shared adventure. At the end of a year of head-spinning experiences, we never tire of sitting around the dinner table and retelling our stories. That was exactly what we had hoped to get out of it.