Lost and Found Again

by Sawyer, Tufts 1+4 Participant

As I take in a slow, steady breath through my nose, the chilled air alleviates the heat that has conglomerated within my lungs. I knew from the moment I stepped off of that bus that I was in a new place; I could smell the change of ambiance. I am in the mountains of northern Nicaragua, Matagalpa to be exact, beginning a well needed trip to escape the infierno of León: my home that just happens to lay beside the ring of fire. Three and a half hours in a revamped school bus put a damper on my legs, so I decide to head into the city where I get lost and found again. I still can’t get over the feeling of the air that I take in. The moment it reaches my nostrils it is as if I can sense the change in composition, the depletion of oxygen to be exact. There is only one word that I can use to describe these feelings: tranquilo.

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Almost Two Months

by Rebeca, Tufts 1+4 Participant

At orientation I tried not to make any assumptions about what working at my placement at Montoya would be like in order to not be taken by surprise when I got there. However, I could not help but have some fears. I was worried that the girls would not accept me and that I would have to try to stand out in some way compared to all the volunteers they’ve had pass through. In terms of my job, I knew I was going to be picking the girls up from school and doing activities with them, but otherwise the details of my role in the home were a bit vague. I was also told that I would be able to make my own projects to do with them, so I imagined that I would share with them my love for art and being active by painting and going to the park with them.

Additionally, during orientation we had a class with a Tufts child development professor in which we talked about working with children. Some important advice I gained from that class was to be stern, as only through being a bit stern will children respect you and open up to you. He also told us that we should validate their words and experiences but not hand out compliments. Lastly, he encouraged us to be clever and know how to turn a bad situation into a good one when dealing with problem behavior (always seeing the bright side). I kept this advice in mind and even studied my notes from that class on the plane to Madrid, hoping I could take on the first day at Montoya well.

When I arrived at the home, I had no problems being accepted by the girls; although they were not super open at first, they soon wanted to play games and draw with me. Now, almost two months later, the girls and I are very close and they have told me much about their lives. I have found time to spend individually with each one of them, and they often tell me things they do not want to tell the educators. Although sometimes the girls accidentally call me the names of the two students who volunteered at Montoya last year, Daniela and Madeline, I do feel as if I have been able to make a unique impact on them. I have been taking them to run and swim, and have encouraged them to take on healthy eating habits. In addition, we are currently painting a canvas together. I have shared my life and experiences with them, and hope to share some traditions with them like Thanksgiving dinner.

I now also have a more clear purpose in the home, although I always have to be flexible because the lives and schedules of the five girls change. I now pick up the two youngest from school and take one to her psychologist and speech therapist. Then I help the girls with their homework or take them to their activities, the library, or the park. I make sure they eat their “merienda” or snack, put away their clothes, and shower. Basically, I spend the afternoons with them. The day always ends with me eating dinner with the girls and the educators, and sometimes with me reading a story to the youngest.

In terms of applying what I learned from the psychologist, I have employed the idea of being clever with them when trying to get them to do something they don’t want to do. For example, sometimes they do not want to their their homework and try to get you to do it for them. To make sure they do it themselves and understand what they are doing, I take them through the process of completing the problem but avoid giving them hints. Additionally, I  try to make doing homework more fun by standing up and demonstrating things for them or telling jokes. I have also made sure to listen intently to all their stories and validate their hopes for the future. It is important to encourage them and help them work towards their goals, as it is easy for them to lose motivation due to the situations they grew up with. It is hard to be stern, as it is easy for a young volunteer to be seen by the girls as more of a friend and less as someone who has to be listened to. I am working on gaining the same level of respect as the educators, because I have realized that lately I have been too relaxed with the girls.  In addition, I am focusing on improving my ability to deal with arguments between them. They sometimes have problems correctly expressing how they feel in a calm way, so when they argue they have difficulties trying to understand the other girls´ point of view and often speak over each other.

In the next two months I see everyone at Montoya and I having an even stronger bond, based off of how well we get along already. By  getting to know them and what they have experienced in the past better, I will be able to help them more effectively. They have just started going to activities such as swimming and basketball, so I hope that in two months they will be fully invested in their hobby and motivated to go to it. Currently the girls sometimes need some encouragement when they, for example, have to go to a scouts event during the weekend.  I also hope that the educators and I can go on more excursions with them, as I proposed in our meeting today. During the holidays we hope to go see a museum or travel outside of Madrid to a city close by. The educators and I are also going to start workshops in which we encourage the girls to express how they are feeling. Overall, in the future I see myself and the girls moving in a positive direction in terms of our growth and relationships.

The Graveyard Outside My Window

jordyn

by Jordyn, Tufts 1+4 Participant

One of the things that scared my family most in my coming to Brazil was the mosquitoes. I was told that they were an easily manageable problem, and not to worry about them. Those were lies.

Now, this is a bit of an exaggeration. The mosquitoes in Santa Catarina carry none of the terrifying diseases for which Brazil has recently become famous. This does not stop them from being the sneakiest mosquitoes ever to cross my path. They bite through my shirts, my jeans, and even as of late, my socks. They bite through my fluffy socks. My legs are covered in bites and the evidence of my totally failed attempts not to scratch them. I have had to wear sandals for the last three days because my Achilles heel cannot take any more abuse and yet I forget to wear mosquito spray nearly every day. I suppose it is an adequate punishment for my inability to get up for my volunteer apprenticeship at a more reasonable time (when I wouldn’t be rushing out the door to get there before my shift is supposed to start). To top it all off, according to my host mom I have a slight allergy to mosquitoes, making the bites itch just a little stronger and a little longer than they normally do. Fantastic.

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Don’t Judge a Sunset by its (Cloud) Cover

by Erica, Tufts 1+4 Participant

One of the first things I wonder when traveling to a new place is how cool the sunset will look there or if it will be beautiful at all. There have already been some gorgeous sunsets in Madrid—pink and purple streaks peaking up over the tops of the brick buildings, or sometimes the single cloud in the sky turning a deep shade of violet. I love being out around this time when the colors are reflected on the windows and doors of the buildings facing the sun. However, I wanted to find a spot in the city for prime sunset-viewing. I decided to visit El Retiro with my fellow fellow, Jiyoon, for this very purpose. We made our way towards the center of the park and lounged on the steps in front of the water waiting for the sun to lower in the sky. As it grew darker, we couldn’t help but notice that the sky looked overcast, and the sun was barely visible through a thick layer of clouds. We didn’t want to be premature in our judgements, so we decided to stick it out a little longer just in case the clouds decided to cooperate. We probably waited five minutes, but it felt more like fifteen since we were daydreaming about dinner. We decided it was time to go. The clouds weren’t budging.

Plot twist: WE WERE SO WRONG…but it was too late. We had made our way out of El Retiro and were ten minutes away from the metro when we noticed the hues of light pink and red smudged across the horizon. We stopped and tried to take pictures of the sky from where we were, but it wasn’t the same. We then had a mini temper tantrum about our bad luck and how we couldn’t believe that the sunset had been a good one after all. (And swore to never ever judge a sunset ever again.)

What I’ve found that I need in order to appreciate the profundity of any moment or experience is patience—with myself and my environment. At the beginning of September, my feelings resembled the beginning of the sunset in El Retiro. I was lost and confused at the range of emotions I was feeling so early on in the year. Madrid was exceptionally bright and sunny, but sometimes I felt overwhelmingly gray. I wondered when I would begin to love life here and become comfortable enough that I wouldn’t want to go home in May. When I would become as attached as the Madrid fellows had been last year. This experience is absolutely incredible and most definitely the best thing I’ve ever done, but it is in no way easy. I think this is why I struggled at the beginning when I wasn’t feeling happy and excited all the time when I felt like I should have given the amazing opportunity I had.

I don’t remember an exact day (or if it happened all at once), but my anxious feelings began to clear up. I started to see pink. I’ve started to view Madrid as my actual home—a place that comforts and excites me simultaneously. I’m more confident than I was in September, and I’ve started to explore more.

Whenever I ache for home, I try to remind myself that this experience is like the El Retiro sunset. If I’m feeling down, I just need to wait it out. I shouldn’t let a bad moment define the entirety of my year because before I know it, the gray will dissolve. I’ll become more comfortable with my host family, more fluent in Spanish, more involved in and integral to my work, and more capable of traveling all over Europe. My bridge year is like the sunset—overcast and challenging, incredibly beautiful, and gone.

Uncertainty

evan

by Evan, Tufts 1+4 Participant

As I glanced out the plane window, the sun hit me full on right in the face. I winced, shutting my eyes, but as the plane turned, the left wing blocked the sun and I could again see the scenes below. The deep blue water rippled slightly, touched by a breeze coming off of the endless open ocean. A small cargo ship plowed calmly through the chop headed towards the sunset. The sky was crystal clear, (as it is every day in Madrid) except for a few clouds on the horizon reflecting the sun’s orange tint. I put my face against the window and looked down as we passed over the coast of Italy, giving me my first view of the outskirts of Rome. I saw a soccer field in barely playable condition, nestled next to an ancient crumbling amphitheater. Large yachts lined a canal that wound its way from the Mediterranean into Italy.

Air Europa had neglected to feed us anything on the flight from Madrid (at least not while I was awake), and we had spent around an hour and a half waiting on the tarmac before takeoff, so I was famished. Usually on trips like these, I pack way more snacks than I need as I end up sleeping the majority of the time, but this time I had not bought anything in the airport as I was too caught up in reading the first Harry Potter book in Spanish. As I waited in the passport control line in Rome talking to both of my moms (American and Spanish), my real mom pointed out the irony of being in Italy for the first time and not being able to find any food.

After traveling almost exclusively with my family in my childhood, I find it refreshing to travel alone with no rush and no plans on my arrival. On this particular voyage, my final destination was Belgrade, Serbia to visit a friend from high school. I had no idea what he had planned for the weekend and I thoroughly enjoyed the uncertainty.

Although my daily routine in Madrid is very structured, with classes from 9-4:30 and a lunch break in the middle, Spanish classes Monday and Wednesday evenings, and chorus on Friday, the overall direction of my year – despite the fact that it has already been over a month – is largely a mystery. I still have no idea what else I will experience and who I will become by the end of May. And it feels wonderful.

Good Even When it’s Bad

stone

by Stone, Tufts 1+4 Participant

I’ve had a surprisingly eventful first week and a half with my host family considering I haven’t really done much. My first night I went to the local pulperia, a small store at the end of the block, where it turns out you have to tell the person behind the counter what you want and they’ll get it for you. The next morning, a little while after waking up, I heard the roaring of a machine outside my window. Having grown up in suburbia I figured it was probably a lawn mower, and only later remembered that I hadn’t seen any lawns. A few minutes later the noise got louder and a white colored smoke began floating in through the windows. I opened the door, planning to escape into the main part of the house, but smoke started billowing in through it. I slammed it shut, dropped to the floor near my bed and started breathing in through a sheet. After a few minutes, both the noise and the smoke dissipated and I was able to continue getting ready for work. I didn’t know how to ask what the smoke was in Spanish, so I didn’t try to find out from my host dad when he walked me to Sawyer’s house at which I would catch a ride into work.  When I arrived at La Salle University, my host agency/workplace for the next nine months, I told the program coordinator and director what had happened and apparently the house was being fumigated but I hadn’t been warned. On the upside, as Sawyer’s host dad put it, I had my first funny story.
As it turned out, I have the worst Spanish of the Amigos de las Americas participants. My first morning at La Salle was really just an introduction, and thank goodness for that, because I could barely understand what anyone was saying. The main part that I was able to comprehend was when Professor Saborido, who I would be working with, showed us the solar panel system. I was pretty psyched about that, and the others were impressed as well. That afternoon I went home and spent hours studying Spanish.

The next day I felt much better prepared and understood a little more of what people were saying. When Professor Saborido arrived he introduced me to his assistant Daniel  who speaks English. I was so relieved about that. Daniel is going to be here for about another two months, long enough so that he can help me with communication while I transition, but not so that I can rely on his help for too long to properly learn Spanish. Daniel is from Austria and is trilingual, as he can speak German, Spanish, and English. I think that is amazing, and of course feel useless in comparison.

The professor then gave me a document outlining the renewable energy systems in La Salle, both solar and wind, which I was to translate to English so that I could understand it. While I took AP Environmental Science my junior year and know a fair amount about the theoretics of renewable energy, I have never taken a science class in which I learned about energy and the specifics of how it works. Understanding that document took more than a mere translation. I spent the weekend studying up on both Spanish and electrical engineering. Fun fact: current is essentially the flow of electrons. Did I know that before last week? No, but I probably should have. I put a lot of my own time into learning which was lots of fun as well as tiring, but it turned out I needn’t have done quite so much on my own, as when I got into work on Monday it turned out there was pretty much nothing else to do. At the very end of the day before the five day weekend due to Independence Day started, another professor showed me a document in Spanish detailing how to set up a solar panel system. We were going to start setting one up on Monday. I walked home planning for the busy weekend ahead.

The next day I went with my host mom, my host grandmother and her great granddaughter (sometimes there are four generations in the house and that is awesome) to the Independence Day parade. There were costumes, music and dancing all worn and performed by high school students, college students, and teachers. One of them was Sawyer. Before it started, my host mom offered me a square of flavored ice she had just bought, which I gladly accepted. I don’t know if that was the cause, but less than half way through the parade I had to walk home due to severe intestinal cramping. On the way it started to rain. I reached the house just as it really started to pour. I took a nap and woke up at eight PM, the pain having left me. I skipped dinner, went back to sleep, slept through an earthquake and for fourteen hours, which scared the heck out of my host family as I found out the next morning when my host grandma knocked on my door. I apologized for the worry and told them I felt much better, which I did.

That night I went with the other León participants, Sawyer, Mateo, and Isabelle, to an exercise/dance class which was like Zumba but weirder. We all had an amazingly fun time and it was nice to be able to talk to Isabelle and Mateo for the first time in a week. Unfortunately, I started to get a migraine, and I felt super nauseous during dinner. I woke up a little after twelve am and the migraine was gone, but I was sick to my stomach again. The next morning I ate food and started feeling better. Though I missed lunch and volcano boarding with my friends, I danced with my host family, and everyone was very encouraging (probably too encouraging considering my general lack of dancing skills) and I played with the three year old great granddaughter (my host niece?) for a while. Unfortunately, around three I started feeling sick again. My host mom came in with some Gatorade to re-hydrate me and told me that if I needed anything I should tell her and to feel free to knock on her door in the middle of the night because now, “Soy tú Mama.” ‘I am your mother.’

If anything could turn hurling three times in an hour into a slightly good thing, it was that.