On Saturday, I found myself with 30 other foreigners on a city bus we essentially rented to tour through the countryside. We ended up in a town — a handful of houses, a very small park and few closed stores — that appeared to have more street dogs than people.

When I recounted this story to my mom, she stopped me after I said “street dogs.” She couldn’t believe that about 10 homeless dogs were roaming this town. I couldn’t believe that she thought this little detail was my story’s weirdest part.

The cultural adaptation curve can explain the difference of perspectives between my mother and I. The curve says that after first arriving in a country, everything will be new and shocking. Then, your emotions will dip down to hostility and anger. After finally adapting, you will feel like you’re at home.

When I arrived in Ecuador in June, I was shocked at the dogs. However, after living in Santiago, Chile for nine weeks, I’ve entered the “feeling at home” stage of the curve. I expect to see normal Chilean things like street dogs as much as I expect people to wear orange for a Syracuse basketball game.

During orientation for the first leg of SU Abroad’s program in Ecuador, the program directors explained this curve to my group. I promptly forgot about it, until I realized the curve was accurate.

During my month in Ecuador, everything felt new and exciting. Mundane things, like people selling candles outside of a cathedral I passed everyday, seemed exotic and different compared to my life in Pennsylvania or Syracuse. During my first night in Ecuador, I remember having a very simple conversation with the hotel staff about the Wi-Fi. I was so happy that I had the whole interaction in Spanish.

When I first arrived in Chile in August, I felt excited, but it was less intense. Speaking Spanish wasn’t a novelty anymore. Although Chile and Ecuador are very different, the cultures share certain things, like the habit of greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek and the influence of Catholicism.

After living here for a few weeks, I started feeling the hostility phase of the cultural adaptation curve. Although the curve predicted this, I didn’t think that I would feel that way. I was annoyed at little things in the culture. Why do bad rappers come onto my bus with portable speakers and start to perform? Do I really have to say goodbye to everyone with a kiss on the cheek? How can the professor understand that student’s question because it didn’t even sound like Spanish?

I phased out of this period of difficulty, and now Santiago’s quirks feel normal. The street food here is as much a comfort food as the peanut butter cups I buy at the Walmart-owned store, Líder. I’ve made more Chilean friends because my Spanish is exponentially improving. I embrace greeting and saying goodbye to everyone with a kiss on the cheek as a friendly and warm gesture, not an invasion of personal space.

Sometimes I am reminded of how much I still don’t know about Chilean culture. I’m still trying to understand the machismo. Random guys say hello or harassments when I walk down the street. Guys probably think I’m flirting with them when, really, I would just like to borrow a pen in class.

A lot of life abroad is the same as life in Syracuse. I take tests. I have to buy shampoo. I need to remember to Facetime my parents more. However, these normalcies are interrupted by weekend excursions to the beach, delicious Chilean cuisine and, of course, everything is in Spanish.

Danielle Roth is a junior majoring in magazine journalism and international relations. She is following her desires for good food and adventure in Santiago, Chile. Email her at dlroth@syr.edu or tweet at her @danielleroth_.

Published on September 30, 2014 at 12:01 am