The 24 Hour “Yes” That Changed My Life

In early 2010, I was finishing my student teaching and just weeks away from graduating with a Bachelor of Science degree in Theatre Education, with a minor in Spanish. One of my professors casually mentioned an international teaching job fair happening soon at the University of Northern Iowa and something in me immediately lit up.

What she didn’t know was that the idea of living abroad had already been quietly growing inside me for years.

My friends and I at the top of the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacán, Mexico.

Where the Dream Began

My eyes were first opened to international travel when I was incredibly fortunate to study abroad in Mexico twice, once in high school and once in college. Both programs lasted about a month during the summer. I traveled with classmates, lived with host families, attended Spanish language courses, and immersed myself in the culture.

I remember feeling like something woke up inside of me. I loved being in a completely new environment, trying to communicate in another language, and experiencing new sights, colors, and smells. It was intoxicating. Those experiences planted a quiet wish in my heart: one day, I want to live abroad, maybe even in a Spanish-speaking country.

The Job Fair

Fast forward to 2010. When I heard about the international teaching job fair, I felt that same spark of excitement. To be honest, I didn’t even know international teaching was a real thing that people did. It just felt right.

There was one small obstacle: I had to convince my parents. I told them I wanted to attend “just for interview practice.” That wasn’t a total lie - I still felt like living abroad was a bit of a long shot.

One snowy weekend, my mom and I drove about three hours to attend the fair. There were only a handful of theatre teaching jobs available and I hadn’t even finished my degree yet! I interviewed with a few schools, including one in Cairo, Egypt.

By the end of the weekend, I left with no job offers.

The Call That Changed Everything

On the drive home, my phone rang.

I pulled over to the side of the road and spoke again with the school in Cairo. Their first choice (rude!) had accepted a position elsewhere, and I was their second choice (I’ll take it!). They explained they would email me the details about salary, schedule, and benefits.

There was just one catch.

I had 24 hours to decide. Yes or No.

I felt an immediate rush of excitement. Sure, Cairo wasn’t a Spanish-speaking country, but it was new. It felt like a challenge, one that might put me on the correct path in life.

So, I said yes.

My friends thought I was either brave or crazy (“Who do you even know in Cairo?”). My dad thought it was exciting. My mom… was heartbroken. She cried and didn’t speak to me for a week. Growing up in a small town in Wisconsin, moving abroad - especially to a country like Egypt - was unheard of. It took her a long time to understand why I needed to do this.

But I knew one thing for sure: I would regret it if I didn’t try.

Fear, Doubt, and One Overweight Suitcase

That summer was a rollercoaster of emotions, excitement mixed with absolute terror.

This photo was taken on a felucca ride on the Nile in Cairo.

What did I even know about Cairo?
Could I survive as a 22-year-old single woman in a Muslim country?
I didn’t know anyone from the Middle East. I had only learned a few words in Arabic.
What had I gotten myself into?

In the days leading up to my departure, there were countless tearful goodbyes. I packed everything I owned into one overweight suitcase. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure how to fly by myself, and I pictured myself running through the airport with multiple bags in a total panic. So, one suitcase it was.

This is embarrassing to admit: but I didn’t even know how to use the TV screens on the plane. I just sat there for 8 hours wondering what I was getting myself into!

My entire life, and a brand-new wardrobe suitable for the Middle East, stuffed into one bag.

Almost Didn’t Make It There

On the day of my flight, we arrived at the airport early only to discover my ticket wasn’t registered. I frantically tried calling the school. To make matters worse, it was during Ramadan.

Eventually, they realized there had been a mistake: my flight hadn’t been properly confirmed. I had no way to get there.

Without hesitation, my dad stepped in and bought me a seat on the flight, trusting the school would reimburse him. Looking back, that still amazes me - it was such a risk, and such an act of faith. (And, yes, he did get reimbursed!)

A Moment of Doubt

During my layover at JFK, I sat at my gate as passengers began rolling out prayer mats and praying. I was the only white person there, and I felt completely out of place.

I called my mom, crying, and asked her why I was doing this. She calmly told me that if I wanted to come home, that was okay - we would figure it out.

That moment was the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt.

And yet, somehow, I found the resolve to say no. I was going to do this.

Arrival in Cairo

Young Sara at the Pyramids of Giza, Egypt.

Arriving in Cairo was surreal. Because it was Ramadan, I was careful not to drink water in public, even though it was swelteringly hot. A man picked me up from the airport who spoke very little English (looking back now, there were many red flags), but we picked up someone else along the way who could translate.

Nothing was open because of Ramadan. I couldn’t buy a phone or a SIM card, and I didn’t know how to ask. I was completely overwhelmed. I figured I’d call home later.

After arriving at my apartment, I passed out from exhaustion. That evening, they helped me get a phone, but when I returned home, I couldn’t even figure out how to use it. (For the record, this was an old school Nokia! Not a fancy smartphone - they barely existed in 2010.)

I didn’t contact my family until the next morning, after finding an internet café. My parents had been worried sick. I still feel awful thinking about the hours of stress I caused them.

Finding My Place

I lived in Maadi, an area with many expats, shops, and restaurants. I stood out immediately and somehow, my neighbors seemed to know exactly who I was. When I got lost walking home, they kindly pointed me in the right direction.

Cairo was intense. The heat, the traffic, the language barrier - everything felt fast and overwhelming.

But over time, I found my people.

When everyone is living outside their comfort zone, it’s amazing how quickly deep connections form. My colleagues became my family. We shared meals, traveled together, and supported each other through everything. Many of those friendships have lasted more than 15 years.

The Ripple Effect

Before I left, my dad told me, “I think you’re going to start in Cairo and just keep moving around the world. I don’t think you’re ever going to come back.”

He was right.

From Cairo, I moved to Chengdu, China. Then to Bangkok, Thailand - where I met my husband. Later, I returned to China, this time to Beijing. Today, I’m living and working in Chennai, India.

Looking Back

Sometimes I think about that 22-year-old version of myself - terrified, unsure, and brave enough to say yes anyway.

If there’s something you’ve been dreaming about but haven’t felt brave enough to do yet, I hope this story reminds you that courage doesn’t mean having all the answers. Sometimes it simply means taking the leap.

Here on Sara Abroad, I’ll be sharing more about life overseas, teaching abroad, and the travels that have shaped who I am. I’m so glad you’re here and I hope you’ll follow along!

Until next time — keep saying yes to the adventure.