Right when I was old enough to go abroad alone, that’s what I did. After doing a job training as a language correspondent and learning Spanish for 2 years, I finally spent one year in Ecuador at the age of 18.

That allowed me to experience what I always craved: Seeing what happens if, for an entire year

• I do things I’ve never done before
• I live in a place I’ve never been to and in circumstances I’ve never experienced
• I speak a language that’s not my mother tongue
• I surround myself with people I didn’t know yet

So, I spent a year in a small fishing village at the Ecuadorian Pacific coast, where I lived in various host families. I ate rice every day, paired with some local food like patacones (fried platains) or ceviche. I  washed my laundry by hand each Sunday, showered with cold water, and – just to get the real experience – my phone got stolen after 2 weeks, so I used an old Nokia phone for an entire year. I made friends with a group of locals that showed me their culture, their home, their traditions, their way of thinking. Life happened outside on the streets or on the beach.

Speaking Spanish had opened the door to all these experiences. But, even more importantly, it allowed me to travel beneath the surface.

It gave me the chance to connect with people who didn’t speak English, or who had never been in touch with someone from another country before. It gave me an insight into new political views, confronted me with my own privilege and with beliefs I don’t agree with, it showed me how I’m culturally preprogrammed to react in certain ways. It showed me how my way of dealing with things collided with the way other people deal with things. And ultimately, it challenged my fundamental belief of what’s right and wrong – or if there’s such a thing at all.