Category: Tufts Civic Semester

by Ella, Civic Semester Participant

There’s a certain feeling, a certain ache that comes with Change. It hits at milestones: one week before, knowing that this is the last Monday that your life will exist the way it stands in front of you today. The moment you realize that you only have two more weekend days to sit with the version of yourself that exists on this warm Saturday afternoon. 24 hours before the Change, realizing you will only lay your head on this pillow once more, praying you dream of the exact day that you had—maybe you can extend this reality for eight hours more. The final wave hits you as you watch the landscape change beneath you from the sunlit plane window.

Six months ago, I would’ve told you that this feeling is dreadful, terrifying, sad. I would’ve asked you how it’s possible to leave so much of myself, so much of what I know to be true, just to spend my time rebuilding exactly what I have now. Friendships, comfort, love.

by Teagan, Civic Semester Participant

A few weeks ago, I celebrated my first birthday away from my family in all 19 years of my life. However, even thousands of miles from home, I had felt as loved as ever—loved by my cohort, loved by my host family, loved through the texts and calls by my family and friends at home, loved by the new place I called home.

On November 10th, my alarm went off at 7:15 am, and on the rare occasion, I didn’t hit the snooze button. I felt wide awake with nervous excitement as the breeze floated into my room. I walked down the balcony to the kitchen where all my nerves immediately melted away. My two little brothers cried “¡Feliz cumpleaños!”, and my host parents embraced me in a hug.

After my day with Zhiyi at our volunteer placement, I walked home—happy but also a little tired after spending hours with little kids and reading “Franklin” at least four times. At the door, my 6-year-old brother Gabriel urgently stopped me from looking out the window to our yard where my family was blowing up gold balloons for the party with my cohort. It was such a surprise and lovely gesture.

by Iris, Civic Semester participant

One of the first activities we did over Zoom (before we met in person) was to go around and say our favorite artists or songs. As soon as we met up on campus we made a shared playlist where we added anything and everything we were into. Since then, there has rarely been a moment without a carefully curated soundtrack.

“peru! 🦙💓🏔” is over six hours long, with 110 songs switching randomly from indie folk to high-energy Spanish pop to billboard top ten to French ballads. I love it, and it has ruined my Spotify Wrapped.

There are too many moments with music to write about them all (I finished this entire yak only to realize that I had forgotten Ligia teaching us to dance in her living room, karaoke, and having our very own at-home discoteca!), but here are some of my favorites.

by Iris, Ella, Jacob & Zhiyi, Civic Semester Participants

In honor of our last few days in Peru, here are four lessons we’ve learned in the last 3 months with some bonus footnote lessons from the group.

Iris:

The biggest gift that this semester has given me is constant discomfort. Every day, I learn that I am capable of so much more than I ever imagined. At home, I thought of myself as someone contained. Careful. Introverted and always needing more time to recharge, never quite ready to take a risk. From home, the world felt so small. My school, and my friends, and my house. Now, the world feels almost unbearably large. There is so much to see and do, and I’m ready to embrace it all with open arms. Here, I am someone who says yes to a walk even when I’ve just been at the gym, who stays up just a little later to talk, who makes a plan past exhaustion. And in the wake of this, I have realized that I need so much less comfort than I thought. I’m sleeping less and doing more, but instead of feeling depleted or numb, I feel more awake than I ever have. I am invigorated by everything, excited by anything.

Somehow, being in Peru has unlocked more hours in the day. I no longer need to waste precious time hiding from discomfort and making sure I’m 100% “ready.” Instead, I trust that I can face any challenge head-on and without warning. And more than being able to face it, I know that I’ll enjoy it.

The discomfort and the newness create room for constant, inescapable awe. Nothing is regular, and I’m never used to it, and that means that every day I am blown away by sheer beauty, love, and joy. I’ve learned over and over that if everything is easy then nothing is special, and pushing through is what makes life satisfying.

I am learning to embrace every new challenge instead of shying away from them. I am learning to answer every question with yes. I am learning that there is almost nothing I can’t do.

We’ve all been sick here, and we’ve all pushed through. Last month, I felt quite sick at an org visit. Nauseous enough that I had to sit down at the end, and got special front-seat privileges on the van ride back. That night we had salsa classes, which I love. But I couldn’t help but hesitate. Really, I’m going to go to salsa, where we spin each other around in circles and take quick steps with loud music and strangers? Is that really the best decision in my current state? I went anyway, and had one of my best nights yet. I called my parents afterward and started the story of the day with being sick. Halfway through, my mom interrupted me – “Where is this story going? You sound happy, so there’s no way it ends here.” That is what Peru has taught me – the story doesn’t end with discomfort. That’s where it starts.