This past summer, I had the incredible opportunity to travel to Dénia, Spain, with Baylor University to study Spanish. The experience was both enriching and eye-opening, not only in terms of language and culture but also in how healthcare differs across countries.
The trip itself was an amazing cultural experience. The Spanish seaside town of Dénia, with its beautiful beaches, lively markets, and historic charm, was nothing short of the perfect backdrop to get some studies done. From ordering tapas in local restaurants to having casual conversations with native speakers, the immersion helped me hone my Spanish skills in ways that classroom learning simply cannot.
However, amidst all the excitement, I unexpectedly faced some health challenges that put me in direct contact with the Spanish healthcare system. Early in the trip, I caught a severe cold, which took a toll on me physically. I had never traveled abroad, so I was not accustomed to the difference in access to medicine in other countries.
In Spain, simple drugs, such as ibuprofen, were harder to access and required a visit to a pharmacy. As we would normally pick up some over-the-counter medicine at a local Walmart in the United States, you had to travel into town to a pharmacy in Dénia because that is the only place that offers medicines in the entire town.
The real turning point for me was when I got hit with severe food poisoning. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and I was most definitely in need of some help. Unfortunately, Pepto-Bismol, the pink medicine so many of us rely on, was nowhere to be found. Instead, I trekked to the pharmacy and found a natural herbal-based remedy to help with my stomach pain. I waited for the illness to pass, and everything was back to normal. It was a humbling reminder of how different healthcare systems approach treatment. In the U.S., we often have a medication for nearly every symptom, but in Spain, the emphasis seemed to be more on natural healing and consulting with a healthcare professional before using certain medications.
This experience, while challenging, opened my eyes to the many ways different countries approach healthcare. In Spain, people often rely on pharmacists for direct consultations, rather than the self-diagnosing culture common in the U.S. Despite the discomfort I went through, I appreciated seeing firsthand how another country prioritizes care and healing. It reinforced the importance of adaptability when traveling and the value of learning from other systems.
By the time my symptoms subsided, I had gained a deeper appreciation for the Spanish approach to health. Even though it was frustrating to not have immediate access to familiar remedies, I learned to trust the local process and appreciate the emphasis on seeking professional advice before treating illnesses. It also gave me insight into the Spanish healthcare system’s more conservative approach to over-the-counter medications.
Looking back, I’m grateful for the experience—not just for the language immersion or the beautiful scenery of Dénia—but for the lessons learned in resilience and cultural differences in healthcare. What started as a simple Spanish study trip turned into a valuable life lesson in global health perspectives, reminding me that there’s always something to learn, even in times of illness.