A Little Salmonella, a Lot of Christmas Spirit

By Zachary, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Last week, during a brief encounter with Salmonella, I came downstairs to divulge myself in the arroz con pollo that I’ve grown so accustomed to while being ill. Upon reaching the bottom floor, I saw a white glow coming from the corner of our living room. I looked down and saw that my host sister, Mary, had fully assembled our artificial Christmas tree and draped it with flashing lights that should have come with a seizure warning. Mary was proud of what she had done. For the past two weeks, she had been waking up at the crack of dawn and going to bed at 2:00 AM to finish her thesis for her Master’s Degree. Assembling the tree was merely a distraction for her to step away from what I’ve been referring to as La Tesis de Horor.

A few nights after that, Mary came pounding on my door demanding that it was time to string lights on our banister. I followed Mary downstairs; she immediately sat in a mountain of Christmas lights and tacky garland. My 35­year­old host sister was legitimately the biggest fiend for Christmas.

She assigned me to taping a semi­hazardous looking extension chord to the wall so that we could plug­in the lights running up the banister. I reached into my pocket; how could I possibly be decorating for Christmas without playing a tacky Spotify Christmas playlist. I hit play and by some miracle, All I want for Christmas is you came onto shuffle. Instinctually, it was my duty to perform the musical genius that was this masterpiece. The room went silent, the lights felt like they dimmed, and the spotlight was on me. At the end of exactly four minutes and one second, in a tremendous act of self­expression, I had completely killed the performance— I also had certainly reinforced a number of negative stereotypes surrounding Americans.

But I felt like I was back home. Despite my Jewish heritage, I bought the equivalent of a Christmas shrub last year with my friends. I had been living primarily alone and had thought that the tree would be the perfect companion to my sometimes lonely apartment. After a vigorous game of Monopoly, we decorated the tree and later named him Abe, an extremely Jewish name— a pretty hilarious slap in the face to my own Jewish heritage.

At home, I spend Christmas with my dad in his house in Maine. His house lacks many things that I’ve become accustomed to: hot water, electricity, internet access. My first Christmas staying there, I asked my dad about having a Christmas tree. He left the house, and within an hour, he came back with the most hideous tree I had ever seen. It was smaller than I was, only had only a few stray branches sticking out, and was made up of dying needles falling off of it: a true Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

Anyway, I had almost exhausted my entire Christmas playlist but looked up to see the banister glowing with Mary’s lights. She had beautifully wrapped them around the different plants and decorations that we keep in the corner of the room. The house felt different— a Christmas tree, Christmas music, tacky decorations— I felt like I was home… and I was.

I was exhausted. I looked down to see my phone glowing— 1:30 AM. Drained, Mary and I went to sit on the couch to marvel over the work that we had done. After making a few jokes about my host brother, Paúl, coming back late to find us sitting there, just staring at a wall, we both went silent.

Silence doesn’t require language, it’s about sharing a space and a feeling with someone else. We started at the lights, flashing and glowing and illuminating our living room. I thought back to how I’d spent Christmas in the past and that this would be the first time in 18 years that I was spending the holiday without both of my brothers. I thought though of Mary and how much she means to me; despite only spending three short months with her, I couldn’t imagine being back in New York without her. I thought about having slap boxing matches with her in the middle of the mall. Or keeping her updated on the latest program gossip. Of how she laughs when I talk about the terrors of teaching four­year­olds. How she’s patient with me despite my troubles speaking her language. I thought of the crazy idea that this woman takes time out of her life to go off and hang out with me— the foreigner— when she could be doing literally anything else. I thought about how grateful I am that she was in my life.

I stated at the tree and thought about how much I love Christmas, and how being in Ecuador doesn’t change that at all; after all, Mariah Carey is not just specific to the United States. As Mary put it, I might not be with my two brothers at home, but I’m gonna be with my four new siblings that I have here.

City Year: Leveling the Playing Field

by Faizah, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Of the 400 students at Moten Elementary school, 99% of the students are black. I saved 1% for a few outliers: Anna1, a fifth grader of Chinese descent, and a caucasian student in preschool. In the United States today, school segregation is still a reality, rooted in unfair government policies and creating disadvantages for students that come from poorer backgrounds. So what is City Year, and what can City Year do to alleviate the dire reality of school segregation?

In 1954, a groundbreaking Supreme Court case, Brown v. Board of Education, ruled that school segregation is unconstitutional, which offered hope for school integration. However, about 60 years later, the outlook of integrated schools doesn’t look so hopeful. Black students living in the South today are less likely to attend school with a majority-white student body than 50 years ago2. It’s a result of government policies that are attempting to keep neighborhoods white-only. Beyond this being a race issue, economics are at play as well. Black communities are being pushed into poverty-stricken neighborhoods, with black children more likely to grow up in poor neighborhoods than they were 50 years ago3. This uneven playing field that children are placed on affects everything – from their quality of education to their life span. And if it isn’t already obvious, the playing field is not in favor of black and Latin children.

So what is City Year? And what can a non-profit organization do for an issue that has its roots informed by decade-old racial prejudices and embedded in government policies? City Year is a force of young individuals, dedicated to providing children with the opportunities that their living circumstances cannot offer to them. As near-peer mentors, we lift our students up in an attempt to give them a more even playing field. Together, we serve communities by coming to them, joining their schools and becoming a part of their classrooms. We seek to address the needs of students that schools are not designed to meet, such as behavior and socio-emotional skills. We analyze student scores to determine what we need to re-teach students to get them on grade-level. We work with the school to create after-school enrichment programs, so that we offer the most that we can to our students. As City Years, we are the first in school and the last to leave, dedicating 10+ hours a day to children that society sometimes forgets.

But despite the hope that City Year’s mission provides and the energy that City Year fellows bring to the table, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed as a City Year. It sometimes seems like nothing ever changes. With a nonexistent disciplinary system, Andy and Alan4 still come to school even after getting caught smoking weed in the bathroom. Teachers struggle to do their jobs with very little support. Students with good behavior are overshadowed by the few who are disruptive in class and prevent teachers from teaching.

However, just as the good students are harder to notice, so are our efforts. It’s easy to overlook the good that is being done since some problems still persist. Doing City Year requires an enormous amount of hope and love. I firmly believe that slowly but surely, my 12 focus list students are going to catch up to grade level as long as I patiently encourage and teach them past the meltdowns they will have when faced with a challenge or their inability to focus due to their high energy. I believe in my students who I work on behavior skills with. After weeks of setting goals to improve social, emotional, and academic skills, they will go from shy, unconfident children to students with a renewed awareness of their strengths and positive thoughts for the world. Ultimately, we “do it for the kids” and their futures, and the smiles and energy that they emanate in exchange makes everything – long hours, little pay, numerous deadlines, and unseen results – all the more worth it.

1 Name changed for privacy
2 https://www.vox.com/2018/3/5/17080218/school-segregation-getting-worse-data

3 Ibid.
4 Names changed for privacy

A House Divided, Two Nations at Stake

By David, Tufts 1+4 Participant

In a flash, over two months of my bridge-year odyssey has passed. This period will forever be remembered  as a significant milestone, a time when I succeeded in the enormous task of settling myself into this new life abroad. Being an American living in Brazil, an individual invested in two distinct societies, this month has been especially tumultuous regarding two events that have dominated the news networks as well as community conversation. With political polarization, media sensationalism, and cynicism aside, these two particular events have affected me extremely deeply, compelling me to write this article to emphasize a specific component that these two events share, a component that endangers our respective democracies. I further reiterate the crucial role we all have as citizens to protect and defend the integrity of the institutions that govern our livelihood.

THE FACTS:

BRETT KAVANAUGH AND CHRISTINE BLASEY FORD

For the past month, American politics and people were intensely split over the Senate confirmation of Judge Brett Kavanaugh to the U.S. Supreme Court, to replace Associate Justice Anthony Kennedy. Initially, President Trump’s selection to the highest court in the land seemed guaranteed: Kavanaugh had an impeccable education at Yale Law School, a prestigious career at the D.C. Circuit of the U.S. Court of Appeals, and was rated “well qualified” by the American Bar Association, their highest rating for Supreme Court aptitude. Yet, what seemed like a certain confirmation took a sharp turn when three women came forward and accused Kavanaugh of sexual assault during their high school and college years. The first woman, Christine Blasey Ford, was called to testify before the U.S. Senate. 

The nation watched as Ford gave her calm yet powerful recount of what Kavanaugh did to her on that night in 1982. The nation watched as Kavanaugh gave his fiery and passionate defense,  primarily accusing the Democratic Party of conspiring to ruin his reputation. Ultimately, the nation watched the Senate confirm Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court in the second narrowest margin in U.S. history (50-48, split predominantly along party lines). His accession to the highest court in the land has created one of, if not the, most conservative Supreme Court in American history, defining precedent for years to come.

JAIR BOLSONARO AND FERNANDO HADDAD

Meanwhile, political tensions in Brazil have been amounting in the past four years, exacerbated by (but not limited to): the largest economic recession (with thirteen million people out of work), the largest corruption scandal (Operation Car Wash, with over R$3.6 billion [~$1 billion USD] in misappropriated funds), and the most violent year (with 2017 a record year, with over 63,000 homicides nationwide), in their entire history. The nation is desperate for an alternative to the notoriously corrupt left-leaning political establishment, one that has ruled the nation for decades. And many citizens believe they have found their answer for the 2018 general election: Jair Bolsonaro, a former paratrooper and congressman who has promised to lead Brazil under his nationalistic Christian right-wing ideology.

Bolsonaro has promised to purify the corruption in Brasilia through a crackdown of left-wing economic policies as well as to combat the escalating crime through strict police reform. Yet, he is notorious and controversial throughout the country for his views on same-sex unions/marriages, the equality of women, and civil rights. He has mentioned he would rather his son “die in a car accident than be gay”, stated that his daughter was produced “out of a moment of weakness”, as well as stoked hatred of refugees by calling them “the scum of the earth.” Most of all, Bolsonaro is a proponent of returning Brazil to a military dictatorship, which ruled the nation two decades prior and was infamous for its egregious use of torture. Despite an entire nationwide movement uniting against his presidential campaign, #EleNao (hashtag “not him”), Bolsonaro has led the polls for most of the race.

Bolsonaro carried 46% of the vote during the election on October 7. Although it was significantly higher than his competitors, it was not enough to break majority and win the presidency outright, prompting a second-round runoff election. On the October 28th election, Bolsonaro defeated his opponent Fernando Haddad, the left-wing Workers’ Party (PT) candidate. He carried 55% of the vote nationwide. In my home state, Santa Catarina, alone, Bolsonaro carried just over 75% of the vote. His inauguration will take place January of next year.

THE ANALYSIS: 

My aim in writing this article is not to impress my political leanings to those who read it. Whatever “side” you think I am should not be important to you and should not affect how you see the issue I am addressing in this piece, one which requires a multiparty solution. 

A diversity of views is the crucial basis of a functioning democracy. Politics, at its root, is the discourse of varying beliefs relating to how the government should be run to best benefit its constituents. Simply put, it is where numerous ideologies/beliefs/opinions clash in deciding what would be best in making people’s lives better. Political discourse is an essential part of maintaining the integrity of the democratic system that both America and Brazil share. This is not what I am contending with.

Yet, the reality is that politics is never so pure-intentioned, clear-cut, and idealistic. Politics is complicated, dirty, and corrupt everywhere; it only varies to relative degrees between differing nations and bureaucratic levels. In spite of this, as civilians in a democracy, we have the power of the vote. It is this power of the vote that places a check on politicians and government that can so easily become misconstrued. It is this vote that we must use wisely, as it is all that most of us will ever have.

The issue I am trying to address in this piece is to reaffirm our commitment in working together in deciding the direction that is best for the nation to go. We all have a superordinate goal to form a “more perfect Union” through civil dialogue and critical thinking, to make our countries better for ourselves and the generations that follow. In that obligation, we all, whether you are left, right, or center, have a crucial role in protecting our democracies from those who use hatred and fear as a platform for power

A platform of hatred and fear promotes tribalism, where we ignore those that challenge our beliefs, only associating with those that affirm our beliefs in antagonizing those on the other side. Tribalism makes an easy situation for demagogues to rise to power, as it permits scapegoating of the opposition as a guise for the leader’s true motives. A diversity of beliefs in a democracy only works when the opposing parties listen and construct, rather than turn away and accuse. 

This is the fact that many of us have neglected when we allowed Kavanaugh and Bolsonaro, and many others, to rise to power. Americans have neglected to realize this when our politicians permitted Kavanaugh to the United States Supreme Court, the highest seat in the land in a position that is rooted in impartial constitutional analysis, despite his accusatory scapegoat rhetoric towards the opposition party. Even more, Brazilians have neglected this when they placed their hopes in Bolsonaro for the presidency, a man who loathes and seeks to undermine anything that is not himself: asylum seekers, minorities, the poor, the LGBT community, non-Christians, women. 

In our obligations as active and engaged citizens, we must, at the very least, be skeptical of those who use hatred and fear as a promotional platform. Regardless of the side one is on, when discussing the policies that govern our lives, it is crucial that we assess them in an pragmatic sustainable manner, rather than getting swept up in fleeting emotion. We must first ask ourselves this simple question: why are they making us fear and despise?

In the best interests of our country and its future, we must be extremely careful of what kind of alternatives we select for power, especially those that proliferate on a basis of tribalism. We have to remind ourselves, even in the most desperate times, to truly think rationally about the choices we make, as the most popular alternative may not be the right alternative. Most of all, we must reconcile and settle our grievances, paving a new of path of collaboration towards a goal higher than our differences. We must reject the means that numerous politicians have used to divide us and create chaos. They do it to advance their ends, not ours.

A house divided cannot stand. Especially during times like these. Especially in the system we have.

Sources:

Stolberg, Sheryl Gay. “Kavanaugh Is Sworn In After Close Confirmation Vote in Senate.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 6 Oct. 2018, www.nytimes.com/2018/10/06/us/politics/brett-kavanaugh-supreme-court.html?smid=fb-nytimes&smtyp=cur.

Watts, Jonathan. “Operation Car Wash: The Biggest Corruption Scandal Ever?” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 1 June 2017, www.theguardian.com/world/2017/jun/01/brazil-operation-car-wash-is-this-the-biggest-corruption-scandal-in-history.

Phillips, Tom. “Brazil’s Election Explained: the Top Candidates, Key Issues and Stakes.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 4 Oct. 2018, www.theguardian.com/world/2018/oct/04/brazil-election-explained-key-issues-candidates-bolsonaro-haddad-presidential-latest.

PHOTOS:

KAVANAUGH AND FORD: https://suntimesmedia.files.wordpress.com/2018/09/kavanaugh-ford-combo-e1538101807784.jpg?w=763

BOLSONARO AND HADDAD: https://abrilveja.files.wordpress.com/2018/08/brasil-bolsonaro-haddad.jpg?quality=70&strip=info&resize=680,453

Learning to Laugh at Myself

By Cecilia, Tufts 1+4 Participant

a drawing from my sketchbook

At the age of four, my worst fear was arriving late to preschool. Being late meant attention, and at that time in my life, there was nothing more unbearably mortifying than having all eyes on me. I vividly remember standing outside the doorway to my classroom, butterflies swarming my stomach, attempting to build up the confidence to walk into the room. A teacher or fellow student would usually find me before I mustered up the courage to enter, leaving me with no choice but to confront the discomfort of being in the spotlight. When the door finally opened, and all heads turned, I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear. I would regularly beat myself up about my lack of courage and consequently had trouble motivating myself to grow my small bud of confidence.

I can’t count the number of times I have turned down opportunities out of fear since my years in preschool. My parents, who constantly radiate positivity, encouragement, and support, would regularly present me with new opportunities throughout my years in school, excited for me to try them out—things like work and community service opportunities, classes, extracurriculars, and other ways to get involved in the community. I would turn down these opportunities most of the time with a heavy heart, full of guilt and self-hatred, even when a part of me wanted to pursue them. To this day, I regret not taking those chances, and have trouble forgiving myself for turning them down. I can’t help but wonder how different my life would be if I had accepted those challenges rather than hiding from them.

For a long time, there was some inherent fear that existed inside of me, like a bright red stop sign that showed up out of nowhere every time I was presented with the opportunity to take a risk. I was so afraid of embarrassing myself or being judged that I avoided every situation that had the potential to make me feel bad about myself—in other words, every social situation, ever. But, somehow, here I am today, thousands of miles away from home, speaking a different language, living a completely different life, and embarrassing myself countless times on the daily. I still wonder: how on earth did I make that jump? 

My shyness has been on a steady decline since preschool, but greatly dampened my confidence all the way through my sophomore year in high school. Until then, I absolutely dreaded public speaking and avoided conversing with people all costs. I had a very hard time getting over my mistakes, especially those related to embarrassment. Any time I stuttered, answered a question wrong, or had an awkward conversation, I would play the moment over and over again in my head, lingering in the embarrassment, and would shame myself for not doing something differently. At a certain point, something shifted; I was tired of spending so much time regretting my actions and feeling disappointed in myself, and decided it wasn’t worth it. 

While ordering coffee at a café a couple of years back, I decided to put into practice the method that I believed would be the most effective in recovering from embarrassment: laughter. After I placed my order, the barista asked, “How are you today?” Due to a combination of my subpar hearing and the background noise, I couldn’t make out what he had said, so I assumed he had asked for a name for the order. I responded confidently but immediately knew I had done something wrong when the barista answered with a curious and slightly judgmental look and the words, “Um… I actually asked how you are doing today. But okay, hi, Cece. Nice to meet you, I’m José.” A hot flash of embarrassment immediately flooded my body, but instead of shutting down, I began to laugh. When I thought about the situation and ignored the fact that I was involved in it, it was simply funny to me. The tension immediately lightened, and the barista responded with a smile. I teased myself, apologizing for my bad hearing, and moved on with my day. It was that simple. 

My world grew enormously once I learned how to laugh at myself. I have been able to spend less time worrying and more time living. There is no purpose in lingering in our moments of discomfort—they will all be forgotten within a matter of time. Failure is such a regular occurrence, but in our society, the open discussion of it is taboo. From a young age, we are taught to hide our failures, and only disclose our successes. What we don’t recognize is that failure has such a tight relationship with growth—in fact, it isn’t possible to grow without failing—so why should we hide our mistakes?

By embracing the fact that failure is inevitable, I have been able to involve myself in various activities here in Cuenca that I have always had an interest in but have been too afraid to pursue. I have been attending kickboxing classes two or three times a week, and yoga once or twice a week. I’m learning sign language online, spending more time drawing, getting more involved in music—specifically violin and guitar—and learning more about Buddhism. These are all interests that I have been wanting to pursue for years. 

The boxing gym I have been taking classes at

Sure, I can think of plenty of times I have embarrassed myself, not only in the practice of these activities but in my everyday life here in Cuenca as well. I’ve had innumerable awkward encounters with the cheek-kiss greeting, have managed to create many uncomfortable situations through various forms of miscommunication, and often have to repeat “¿Mande?” an embarrassing number of times when I don’t understand somebody—just to name a few. I even accidentally kicked my kickboxing coach in the face once and have mistakenly punched him as well. In these moments it feels like nothing could get any worse, but when I take a step back and review what happened, I ask myself, “Who really cares?” Nobody should care more than I do, so if I choose not to care, there should be no reason for me to hang onto the embarrassment. 

Through the practice of laughing at myself, I’ve learned that every chance I take is worth something; it either results in a success or a learning experience, which both have their own benefits. By embracing the possibility of failure, I can freely pursue my interests rather than hide from them in fear of discomfort. I am no longer hesitant to allow my confidence to blossom; I’m choosing to grow risk by risk and failure by failure, because I refuse to go through the rest of my life regretting the chances I never took.

Autosuccess

By Jamie, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Auto Rickshaw Captured by Sofia Alfaro

Tuk Tuk, Auto Rickshaw, Rickshaw, Auto. One of the first things that pops into your mind when you think of a typical, Indian street. They’re (usually) the cheapest way to get around. They’re the most fun to get around in. They’re an essential part of the Indian experience. However, when you don’t speak Hindi and you don’t know the city geography well enough to explain where you live, then it’s really hard to hail one. This is a story of the first time I successfully hailed and bartered an Auto home.

It was a typical day. I had taken Ubers all day long and I was feeling a hole burning in my pocket. I looked longingly towards all of the auto rickshaws that passed my way, but shook my head knowing that I would never be able to do it. Later that same day, the Team Leader in Hyderabad gave some of the fellows tips on saving money on transportation. Her first recommendation was to make multiple stops on Uber instead of taking a straight shot to the destination, her second was taking Ola or Uber Share, and her third was taking an Auto. I asked her the best approach to hailing and negotiating a price and it all boiled down to speaking Hindi (something that I have no particular talent in). Defeated, I booked an Uber with my friend, Ashley, with the intention of lessening the cost of going home. I planned to book another Uber from Ashley’s house to my home, but something went wrong with the app and I got extremely frustrated and my defeatedness turned into determination. I looked at Ashley and said, “I’m going to try to hail an auto.”

Initially, her face exuded a deep apprehension about my ability to do so, but she said, “Okay, I’ll wait with you while you try to get one.” I knew that the average price from her house to my house in the evening time was around 80 rupees, but I knew I had to low ball first. I waved my hand towards an auto and got one in about 10 seconds. I repeated Pannipurra, Subzi Mandi until he began to understand that my accent distorted his native words. He nodded and I thought to myself that that was much too easy. I squinted my eyes and said the word “rupee” hoping that he would understand I meant “how much”. He must’ve been well versed in foreigners and quickly said 100. My eyes widened with disbelief and I quickly said “Nehi,” the Hindi word for no and “50.” He said something I couldn’t understand in Hindi and I thought it was over. Luckily, there was a naan bread shop owner who was watching the whole interaction and decided he should step in. He said, “hello,” and I asked him if he could translate what the Autodriver was saying. He replied that he wants 100. I showed him my Uber screen and I explained how there was no fathomable way I would pay 100 rupees when it’s only 80, and to ask him if he would do it for 60. I watched him explain in Hindi and the driver was almost disgusted with the request. He looked at me and said 90, 90. I threw my head back and laughed with such confidence like I had endless transportation options. I shook my head no and said “70,” and began to walk in the other direction. The Naan shop owner exclaimed, “Hey, he agreed to 70!” After profusely thanking the shop owner and smiling wider than you can imagine at Ashley, I hopped in the auto and made my way home.

When I got home I told my host mom, I texted my sister and mom, I even texted the entire Hyderabad cohort what I had achieved. You may be thinking, well. . . it was really the Naan shop owner that really did it, but I would argue that it was my initiative to do so and teamwork that made my hope come to fruition. If I had never tried to hail an Auto I would have never met the shop owner who negotiated for me. Finding the courage to do something that I had very little confidence in succeeding in and actually succeeding in it was a great feeling, but doing it in India where everything is a little harder made me feel on top of the world.

Viewpoint from Inside an Auto by Ashley Trejo

The Perks of Always Getting Lost

By Christine, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Found a rainbow on my walk home from the bus stop
On the first day of my internship, I allotted myself an hour time slot for a trip that would take 30 minutes. I was not trying to make a good first impression by being obnoxiously early, but rather account for the inevitable loss of direction that I would experience. To no surprise, I used nearly all of the extra half-hour to find the building. It’s safe to say that navigation is not one of my strong suits.
Anyone who knows me is well aware that I lack an internal compass. Even with Google Maps telling me exactly how many steps to take before my turn, I am incapable of comprehending the simplest of directions. I’ve always thought of this as a personal limitation and was often scared to go to new places alone. It’s especially daunting now that I’m in a foreign country where I can barely speak the language. Although the absence of my mental grid can be extremely inconvenient in situations with time constraints or potential danger, I am slowly coming to appreciate it more and more. 
Last week after work, I decided to meet up with some friends at a local park. As a result, I was forced to stray from my usual route back to the bus stop. I knew myself well enough to not even attempt to find my way alone at dusk; even with the help of a companion, I still found myself disoriented and unfamiliar with my location. I commented about how interesting the street murals were and how I wanted to visit the café we had just passed. I was intrigued by this new change of scenery—only to be informed by my friend that we had walked this road in the other direction about four times in the past two weeks.
For the most part, I had been able to avoid situations of disorientation at home in Pennsylvania. I lived in the same small town for 18 years and knew the area like the back of my hand. Driving to areas outside of my 15 mile radius of comfort, however, was a different story. Luckily, I had been gifted 3 car GPS systems for Christmas that could guide me down every road. I missed my turn more times than I can count, but the stern GPS voice reprimanded me as soon as I made a mistake and instantly rerouted itself. Unfortunately, I don’t have the same technology in Cuenca and my brain is not exactly equipped for rerouting. I don’t have my GPS and can’t use Google Maps, so I’ve been forcing myself to become more geographically sound.
It takes approximately five visits to the same location before I can begin to recognize my surroundings. This seems a bit ridiculous, but I am lucky in the fact that everything always seems new and exciting. I could walk through the same park three different times and still feel a sense of amazement and wonder upon each new visit. Besides my naivety, I have also been making a conscious effort to take mental notes of where I am, in hopes that I can learn to improve my navigation skills. This has allowed me to find places that others may never have noticed, such as hidden cafes or stores.
When I am finally able to get places without relying on a navigation app or another person, I feel a sense of accomplishment and independence. This new sense of independence can be extremely challenging, but it also comes with great reward. It is comforting to find spots of familiarity in such a new, foreign land. During the unavoidable situations where I do find myself lost, I’m forced to practice my Spanish in order to get directions. Putting myself in these positions of discomfort has granted me the opportunity to talk to new people and get one step closer to achieving language fluency. 
These small victories and moments of excitement make every day more positive. I also have an excuse to invite friends along to new areas that I want to explore. My directional incompetency makes life more enjoyable, and allows for great stories!
La Comisión de Gestión Ambiental offices— the building I could not find on my first day of work