#23 Why I Left Austria

This week marks the six-year anniversary of my departure from Austria to live abroad, and it has been more than five years since I last visited my home country.

In this post, I will explain why I left Austria, what I miss, and why I am not (yet) ready to go back.

Call To Adventure

As I write these words, I can vividly recall the moment six years ago when I boarded a plane and left Austria for good. I felt a mix of incredible excitement and relief as I embarked on a new chapter in my life.

Since I was a child, I had always dreamed of living by the ocean in a faraway land. However, I had dismissed it as a childish fantasy, as I couldn’t imagine leaving behind the opportunities and security that Austria provided. So, I did the logical thing: I focused on school, then on my career, and eventually built a home.

Despite having everything I could have ever wished for, there was that nagging voice in the back of my mind, asking, “What is life like beyond Austria? What would it be like to live in a country with different cultures, habits, and values? How else could I live?”

Over time, this inner voice grew louder, and staying in Austria became increasingly difficult. Eventually, staying seemed harder than leaving.

So, I left.

Why I Left Austria

For 32 years, I lived in the same country, even in the same district. My home was a small village nestled in the foothills of the eastern Alps, with only 2,400 inhabitants. It was the kind of place where everyone knew each other, and your personal history - and of all your ancestors - were common knowledge.

As I grew older and had more opportunities to travel, whether on short trips or longer holidays, I always returned back home with a heavy heart.

Today I understand why I felt that way and what created this heaviness. Today I understand why it was so important for me to leave and explore beyond the confines of my tiny village.

Disclaimer: I'm about as biased as a pair of Austrian Lederhosen. This is my personal account of life in a typical small village in Austria, and it's been six years since I left.

So, if you happen to be a fellow Austrian with more current knowledge of life back home, feel free to set me straight. I'm all ears! After all, I've been out of the country for longer than some marriages last :)

Four reasons why I left Austria:

1. Tradition vs. Resistance to Change

As humans, we all tend to be cautious when it comes to change, but Austrians can be especially resistant to anything new. We Austrians often prefer sticking to what is familiar and comfortable rather than trying new experiences.

We have the saying, "What the farmer doesn't know, he won't eat" ("Was der Bauer nicht kennt, isst er nicht"), which perfectly captures the love for the known and familiar and resistance to trying something new.

While keeping old traditions alive is important, this behavior can also limit growth and progress. There is nothing wrong with eating "Weihnachts-Karpfen" (baked carp) on the same table with the same people every Christmas Eve for one's entire life, but in a world that is constantly changing, we as people must also evolve.

Traditions can create a sense of belonging and stability, but we should also be open to new experiences. Life in Austria is comfortable, stable, and safe, but the desire for security can also be limiting.

Although I am someone who highly values and needs stability and security, I found the Austrian way of generating this to be too restrictive for me.

2. We are “Raunzer”

There is no word in the English language that accurately captures the meaning of the Austrian expression “Raunzer.” However, it refers to a person who complains persistently and finds faults in everything around them.

Having lived in different countries and talked to people from all over the world, I must admit that Austrians do like to complain more compared to other cultures. But looking at it from a distance, I understand why.

Austria has an incredibly high standard of living, and as a result, its people have developed a low tolerance for poor quality. Although some Austrian readers may disagree, I believe that this complaining-culture has led to higher quality and overall standards

But let me tell you: Life is so much easier without complaining.

Yes, I miss Austrian quality in many aspects of my daily life, but I am happy that I chose imperfect living over constant complaining.

3. Drinking Culture

In Austria, there's an unwritten rule that every celebration must be accompanied by a drink, regardless of the time of day. And let's be honest, finding a reason to celebrate is not hard - from finishing a workday to simply having Sunday off.

In fact, drinking on a Sunday morning has even its own term, known as “Frühschoppen” which literally means “early drinking.”

Alcohol consumption is deeply ingrained in Austrian culture, and unfortunately, so are the dangers that come with it. In rural areas, fatal accidents are not uncommon, and many have lost their lives to drunk driving or other alcohol-related incidents.

Today, living in a country where alcohol isn't as readily available and is often prohibited in public places, I've come to appreciate the benefits of a sober lifestyle. It's been almost two years since my last drink and at (almost) 38 years old, I feel healthier and fitter than I ever did in my 20s.

So, while Austria's drinking culture may be a proud tradition, I’m glad to stick to my coconut.

4. Parochialism

I just discovered the word “Parochialism,” and it couldn’t be a more fitting descriptor for my hometown.

Parochialism refers to a cultural narrow-mindedness and typically can be found in small or isolated communities, such as rural towns. In these settings, people have limited exposure to outside cultures or ideas and are more likely to hold on to their own traditions, beliefs, and customs.

Let me give you a glimpse into the area where I grew up.

My hometown is just one of many small villages nestled in a long valley, separated by hills or mountains and vast areas of uninhabited land. Despite being often only 10km apart, each village has its own unique identity and its own dialect, and people take immense pride in their ancestry and local traditions.

Pride, that goes in some aspects, too far.

As someone who married (and later divorced) a man from a different province, I've spent 14 years visiting my husband's hometown and always feeling like an outsider. I knew I would never belong. I could never belong.

Of course, not everyone shares this extreme experience, but there is undoubtedly a pervasive narrow-mindedness in Austrian rural culture.

Living abroad and BEING THE FOREIGNER, I'm humbled by the openness and acceptance of Asian culture.

Perhaps I'm too sensitive on this topic, but as someone who doesn't value traditions as much as many of my compatriots, I struggle to understand their love for local customs and the reluctance to look beyond their blinders.

To Summarise

Austria is a wonderful country with lovely people who cherish their traditions. However, I struggled to find a sense of belonging amidst all these customs and cultural expectations.

I’m still not entirely sure where I truly belong. But I´m dedicated to finding out.

And one thing is certain: If I had stayed, I would never have found the answer.

What I miss from Austria

Last week I met someone who is currently taking a sabbatical to travel the world. She asked me if there was something that I miss from home, and to my own surprise, my initial reaction was “No.”

When I left Austria, I thought I might miss the mountains and the changing seasons, especially spring and autumn. If you ever have the chance to visit Austria, go in the autumn. It is truly magnificent.

However, living so close to the equator provides a very stable climate and hours of sunlight throughout the year, and I appreciate this stability so much that I don't really miss the seasons in Europe.

Besides, mountains don't only exist in Austria. I just learned while writing this blog post that Indonesia actually has higher mountains than Austria. Austria's Großglockner is 3,798m high (I've never been there), while Indonesia's Pancake Jaya is 4,884m high.

However, I kept thinking about her question if I miss something from home, and indeed there is one thing I truly miss:

Drinking water from the tap.

In Austria, drinking water from the tap is not only safe, but the water is absolutely delicious! There's nothing like taking a sip from the tap after a long run. My village has its own spring water, which is a thousand times better than most luxury water brands.

Clean, fresh, delicious water - I do miss that.

Why I am not ready (yet) to go back

Leaving behind the familiar can be scary, but sometimes it is the only way to find out what’s truly important to you. Being away from home brings something new and exciting every day, and I am constantly learning about the world and myself.

There is still so much more to discover beyond the borders of what I have always known. And perhaps most importantly, I know that there is still so much to learn about myself.

Being in unfamiliar territory has forced me to confront my fears and challenge my beliefs, leading to personal growth and discovery that I could never have achieved if I had stayed in my comfort zone.

So, for now, I am not ready to return back home.

There is still too much to see, learn, and experience.