Tisch Global Jumbos

by Daniela, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. I love a lot, so each year it is nice to have a sweet holiday to celebrate who or what you love.

We are over halfway through our bridge year adventure, and I have many new things to love. First, I love the girls at Montoya. Ana, Yaiza, Carmen, Lucia, Leyre and Eva each hold a special place in my heart. I love the way Ana says goodnight to Madeline and I every night. I love the way Yaiza creates customs out of whatever is in the house. I love the faces Carmen makes at me after she makes a basket at her basketball class. I love the way Lucia blows grand kisses to us almost everyday. I love how Leyre wants to play make believe every time we are walking together. I love the way Eva gently corrects my Spanish. The educators at Montoya are also lovable. I love the fact that Juan Carlos asks for help with his English homework. I love the way Inma makes merienda. I love, love, LOVE Maria Jose, I love her food, her jokes, and I love that fact that during the first few weeks she was shouting Spanish absurdities to a boy who was making me cry.

I love Madrid and its mix of beautiful balconies and Franco style apartments. I love the buses here. I love Retiro and the Palacio Cristal. I love Celicioso, my gluten free bakery. I love not being able to understand Hector, my Cuban crush who works there. I love Toma Jamon and the fact that every time I go in, they know my order. Un cola cao, caliente. I love the Reina Sofia and the scary Buñuel movie that plays there. I love the fruit shops on every corner, and I love the neighborhood mercados. I love that it still smells like Roscone in front of some of the bakeries. I love our house and Miguel the portero. I love the gangs of elderly women talking and rolling around their little carts. I love when the Metro announces the wrong stop and everyone in the car laughs. I love it when I recognize the local street performers and their acts.

I love being able to travel. I love seeing different parts of Spain, and Europe. I love wandering around each city I visit and stopping at the local stores and coffee shops. I love making new friends, like Juan and Nathalia, who I ended up visiting last weekend in England. I love seeing old friends in unexpected places. I love seeing things in real life that I have only seen in books and pictures, like the Cliffs of Moher and the Nobel Peace Prize Center. I love that students enter museums free or at a discounted rate. I love mastering public transportation in a foreign language. And I love coming back home to Los Mesejo again.

Like I said, I love a lot. And while all of the things listed above (along with a couple of others) were contenders to be my Valentine, none of them stole my heart like my fellow Fellows! Daniel, Zoe, Eve, Gabriel, Aberdeen, Steven, Emerson, Abigail, Isabel, David, Elaine, Gongga, Justin and Madeline are the true MVPs this Valentine’s Day. Ellos son super guay! I am constantly inspired by them, via blog posts, Instagram, snapchat, homework assignments, and correspondence. Being able to relate to one another across projects and continents has been one of the highlights of the year. Whether talking about work, or just joking around, the 1+4 fellows are the absolute best. I love them. Hands down, they are my Valentine this year.

*Honorary MVP titles are also awarded to Isaac, Lydia and Nellie our peer leaders.

by Daniel, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Bramerica

Bramerica is the fifth biggest country in the world with a population of about 200 million people and the seventh largest economy.  Now you may have never heard  of Bramerica, but it’s real all right. How do I know? Oh, because I live there.

Bramerica is Brazil today. It’s what happens when  globalization sends American capitalism around the globe riding on the back of Beyoncé’s new world tour. Bramerica is this weird cultural mash-up that leads to non-English speakers singing Joan Osborne’s One of us or Brazilians wearing the shirt pictured on the right ➜

to a local cultural celebration, or restaurants 4,226 miles (6,801 km) south of Key West serving XBurgers (I wish the XBurger was a super secret CIA program to enlist hamburgers as patriotic informants; but in reality the letter X is pronounced ‘chees’ in Portuguese. So, X-Burger…yea, you get the idea.) But above all else, it’s when I run into this⬇︎:

on day one of  my 7 months in Brazil. So yea, for the past five months I have been living on the other side of the equator, thousands of miles away. But something is off, something is just too familiar, too American.

Language

For an English speaker arriving in Brazil none of this may seem out of the ordinary. We are so used to seeing English everywhere that when a Brazilian billboard advertises “Brunch” you don’t even bat an eye. In order for us to truly notice the lingual weirdness present we have to break our own glass, take a step back and think “Wait, what?”

Fewer than 5% of Brazilians speak English but the beach store I passed on my walk to a picturesque shoreline still says that their bikinis are “70% OFF” and the billboard for the nearby music park (FYI: billboards are called “Outdoors” in Brazil) still says “Yes, We Dance.” The Brazilian population does not regularly speak in English but one of the most effective marketing techniques used in Brazil is writing in a language that Brazilians can’t understand: English. That is because for many, English=cool.

To give you a better idea, let’s run through some of my favorite examples of Portguesed English words (English words that are casually thrown into Brazilian conversation like they were Portuguese in the first place): Food Truck, Stand Up, delivery, livestream, meeting, video games, delete, fashion, touchscreen, network and my all-time favorite, the aforementioned super spy X-burger. These words are everywhere, a Brazilian library of the English language, and I am not even including the proper nouns (mostly tech and social media companies) that are even more prevalent. These words, and the social media used to transmit them are the messengers of this lingual and cultural assimilation; globalization is providing them with a new means of travel.

There has never before been a time when a language, any language, could spread so quickly and so efficiently. At one point, Latin ruled the Mediterranean and later, Mongolian, much of the Eurasian continent. But these lingual supremacies were accomplished through bloody conquest; English has secured its position at the top through means of money: economic conquest. While history may repeat itself, this the world has never seen. Because Bramerica isn’t just language; it’s everything.

Modern Culture

A few summers ago I attended a summer program with Israelis, Palestinians, Jordanians, Egyptians, Indians, Pakistanis and, of course, Americans (Me!). At one point, a Palestinian friend of mine said to me “You Americans, you have no culture, (just capitalism).” I add this last phrase here with a little freedom of expression because it would have completed the perfect Hollywood punchline (and helps me make my point). But my friend was stuck thinking of culture in the traditional sense: the parades and costumes of Carnaval, the festive dinners of Eid and the elongated necks of the Kayan Lahwi. He forgot that for every age there is an equivalent culture. And that right now, we are in the cultural age of the luscious golden arches of McDonalds and the cutesy tongue-sticking ghost of Snapchat. We are in an age of globalized culture and in many senses, globalized American culture. Where what is served and sold to the global population tends to tilt toward what the global population desires; and what the global population desires right now tends to be written in a certain North American language (hint: it’s not Spanish, French or any form of the Eskimo-Aleut languages).

This is not some patriotic rant but rather a realization, a truth, made clear by the Brazilian woman I saw wearing the star spangled banner across her bum and the multiple Brazilian men and women with US Army and Navy branded clothing. Oh, and of course, this again:

Entertainment

Entertainment is the real powerhouse of this story. If social media is the messenger and globalization the means, then entertainment is the message; it’s what bounces around the airwaves and shapes the world’s view on American society as well as a sizable chunk of the world’s view of itself.

If you ask Brazilians about their favorite TV shows, movies or music, much of it ends up being pretty familiar to a typical American teenager. Netflix binging is nearly as popular here as it is in the states; Brazil will have an estimated 24.4 million Netflix subscribers by 2020 (the highest other than the US) and American films and music are widely available in the land of bikinis and futbol. In an age where the media you consume, the shows you watched as a kid, and the music you listen to are quintessential pillars of communication and personality this globalization of culture and media makes connecting with foreigners easier than ever before. Because now, many of us have grown up with the same shows, listen to the same music, and are waiting for many of the same movies to come out (The Star Wars opening weekend was packed here as well). So while we may live on other sides of the planet, in many ways, this modern age allows us to all grow up in similar households, creating an easy bridge into connections and conversation across continents.

Christmas

Just as what you eat affects how you feel (and, potentially your waist size); what a country consumes affects how its culture is defined. The effects of widespread American culture are much deeper than many would expect; in Brazil, the Grinch didn’t steal Christmas, we did.

In December, the average temperature in Florianopolis is around 25° Celsius (that’s 77° Fahrenheit). So Santa’s got no need for his 19th century Americanized jolly red garb around here; but he wears it all with pride: his big belly, big beard, big robe, reindeer and even his snow have all followed him to Brazil. It’s like Santa came galloping in from the US, where, in every single piece of American film or media, Santa Claus (“Papa Noel” in Brazil) is represented as a jolly fat man dressed up for the winter. But shouldn’t that Santa really only make an appearance where he was created, or, at least where it’s a little bit below freezing? Shouldn’t the fake snow be unnecessary for Christ’s birthday (presents are another story)? We have inadvertently sold the world our holidays, or, for some, our version of theirs. And Santa’s not alone, over the past decade or so, October 31st has been turned into the Halloween that I recognize back home with costumes, pumpkins, candy, English and all.

As the presence of American media and technology grows, the deeper American culture and language embeds itself into other countries and their cultures.

Em Fim

What does all of this mean for Americans? Most of us live our lives oblivious to the fact that what we create, consume and compose is not just for us, or even just for the North American continent or the Western Hemisphere. We forget that our creations and our culture are displayed to the world at large in a way never seen before. We forget that the films we create, the music we produce and the businesses we churn out are the lenses through which the rest of the world comes to understand us; just as beaches, bikinis, baladas and soccer are how we understand Brazil.

This epidemic is not just constrained to Brazil’s borders. South America in its entirety, Europe, Asia, Africa; every continent has caught The English. They have all been touched by not just American capitalism but American culture. (I tend to conflate English and American a lot throughout this post, that’s mainly because most of the English material and products that I have seen here have been American. Also, I am American…so there’s that bias.)

But the next time you turn on the radio or are looking for a new show to binge on Netflix, count how many are not in English and not in the Foreign Language section. Then think about all of the Brazilians, Egyptians and Argentinian people searching through a nearly identical library, choosing between dubbed and subbed as well as Action and RomCom. And then think of the last time you heard a song in Portuguese on the radio, and remember that someone, somewhere in Brazil is rocking out to Maroon 5 at this very moment. Then be amazed.

by Gabriel, Tufts 1+4 Participant

One memory has continually popped into my mind during my time in Brazil. I remember my mother saying to me, “You don’t realize how lucky we are, you have so much to be thankful for.” I shot back a reply of “No we aren’t, why do you always say that?” Meanwhile, in my head,  I was listing all of the problems that I and my family had. We are poor for American standards. My mom and dad had separated and had a terrible custody battle for much of my childhood. I had recently lost my father. I share the responsibility of settling my father’s affairs. Almost all of my family lives at least three hours away. The list of my ungrateful thoughts goes on and this is the mindset I came to Brazil with.

I had a similar regard to my mom and brother. Being a teenager (on which my mom liked to blame my attitude), I was continually frustrated by my family. I wished my mom would have made that call for me or sent that letter. I wished she would stop nagging me about eating enough, about where I was going and about working too much. She told me for several months before I left that I would regret spending so much of my summer working and not spending time with my family before leaving. I sure do. I was always frustrated with my brother about his lackadaisical attitude toward things I thought were of the utmost importance.

How did they deal with me?

I feel like a different person in the way that I now look at my life in the United States. I have an amazing mother who I can talk to at any time of the day or night about anything. She does anything she can for me and the only reason I have to be annoyed with her is that she is a different person from me. Different in an amazing way. My brother simply has different priorities. He would help me with anything I needed, from fixing my truck to letting my friends and I borrow his snowmobile, just on his schedule, not mine. Not to mention that he is my best friend. My family and I were able to buy our first house several years ago with the help of my grandfather, where we and all of our animals are finally home to stay. No matter how difficult it was, I have always had what I needed, even when money was tight. Though some events in my life are never going to be positive in my mind, I am now able to see more clearly.

Brazil has allowed me to step back from my life and gain a new perspective. I now miss my family like crazy, more than I had ever imagined I would. I have been able to see how many families are much more broken than mine is. I now realize just how many people in our world live in poverty or much below American standards. I have been blessed with an amazing host family during my time here and they have unknowingly led me to these revelations. When I was pouting in my room on Christmas morning after receiving a happy birthday video from my mom including a song, lots of love, and even my dogs, my host family surprised me with a big birthday party complete with cake, ice cream, balloons and banners. I am trying to show them my appreciation as I wait for the chance to bring this attitude home to my real family.

by Madeline, Tufts 1+4 Participant

by Emerson, Tufts 1+4 Participant

I’m screaming. There’s a furry gray mouse in my room and my eleven year old host brother is chasing it around. With a machete. He doesn’t catch it, which I’m partially glad about. I didn’t really need mouse guts all over the floor.

While this event happened over a month ago, I feel it symbolizes Nicaragua for me. No, I don’t see machetes murdering mice on a daily basis. What I mean is the unexpected always seems to slither its way into my life in much larger ways than it would before. In the States, the unexpected for me was finding a mint condition Dixon Ticonderoga pencil on the ground, getting a hummus sandwich instead of the typical PBJ, or having a new face show up to a club meeting.

Now, my life encompasses surprises like going to a dance class to learn salsa, only to learn moves to Beyonce’s Single Ladies. Or showing up to work, only to learn the English teacher I’m helping isn’t going to show up, so I have to scramble to improvise lesson plans for the day. Or maybe, I’ll be innocently searching for some socks, and a furry friend will fly out, ready to be chased by some sharp objects.

It may sound weird, but as I pass the halfway point of my Bridge-Year, I can’t help but cherish these moments. Saying “I’ve been here for four months” and “I have four more months left here” hold the same time value on my approximately eight month trip, but the significance behind each is very different. While one suggests experiences and opportunities to build upon, the other clearly signifies a termination.  The exciting feeling of living one month in Nicaragua is going to convert into a somber mood of only having a month, a week, and eventually a day left. And the end of living in Nicaragua does feel like the end of a boundless adventure.

I’ll relish the rest of this adventure, but instead of looking back on it as a time long gone, I’m going to try to begin new escapades, small and large, in the States. And what about you? There are 1,440 minutes at your disposal tomorrow, how are you going to use them to find adventure?

by Elaine, Tufts 1+4 Participant

I arrived in the Puerto Rico airport at 12 AM clutching my passport, a granola bar, and an overwhelming desire to get back on the plane.  It was my first day of vacation, and my first day outside of Nicaragua since I had left the United States in September.

And now, nearly four months later, I was back! (Well, in an official territory).  I was going to see my parents for the first time since August.  I had the next ten days off work to relax, sleep in an air-conditioned room and take warm water showers.  Until a few days before my departure I had been excited-ecstatic- to get back these old comforts. But when I found myself surrounded by distinctly American culture for the first time I felt a painful longing for my new home in Nicaragua.  And in that moment I realized I do truly love my new home.

I know, I know, what could an 18-year old know about love? Especially as an 18-year old who’s never been in a committed relationship, unless you count watching Breaking Bad, and only Breaking Bad for two months.  But I know that I do love Leon. I love its colors-the blinding white of the cathedral, the orange, purple and blue pastel houses that form a clashing kaleidoscope down the block.  The darkly-hued murals that hint at the political turmoil in Leon’s history.

I love the life that breathes out of every street corner. The high-pitched shouts of vendors balancing baskets on their heads. Tooortillllla and aguacaaaateeee.  The squeak of an old, rusted out bicycle as a family of five, all balanced on top of each other, rides past.  The shouts of greeting (Buenas!) to friends and strangers as you pass on the street. Whoever you are, you’re welcome here. All is good.

And love isn’t always perfect. It rarely is, and it’s these lows, these challenges that make an experience so unique and special.  Sometimes your host mom forgets that you’re still sleeping in your room before telling the workers to fumigate the house.  Sometimes you can’t stand the heat that leaves your clothes a sweaty mess. Sometimes loving something is an unpredictable roller coaster, and you’ve just got to hang tight, hold on and trust where the ride takes you.

Because it’s the little moments that have made this country home. What made me fall in love with Nicaragua, flaws and all.  Nights spent sitting at the dinner table talking about politics with my host mom, and current events with my older sister. The hilarious antics of my two-year old brother.  Coming home from the gym to a cold shower and a hot plate of gallo pinto.  The cool night breeze, carrying strains of salsa music, the fast-paced gossip of women sitting on their front stoops, and the loud pop of firecrackers constantly thrown by children into the darkening sky.

Vacation’s over now. I’m back in Nicaragua, back in my new home.  The next five months still seem like a challenge, but one that’s exciting and invigorating.  I’m with amazing friends in a crazy, vivacious country that I love. And yes, I know there are still difficult times ahead.  Sometimes I’ll forget that I was once longing to be back in Leon.  But whenever that happens I now know what to say.

Buenas! All is good. Take your time. Find your place. You’ll love it here.