I left for a seven-week adventure in Quito, Ecuador this morning. As I have mentioned before, I am traveling to the beautiful, historic South American city for a study abroad session with a focus on Spanish and Public Health, but I know I will learn so much more outside the classroom.
For the past few days—and even now, sitting in the window seat of my early morning flight, overlooking the green landscape of my beautiful Minnesota—I have been surprisingly lax about this trip. I have no nerves, anxieties, or qualms, even though I really should. Want to know my dirty little secret? I haven’t practiced my Spanish in four months. That’s right, I’m heading all the way to South America today with my language skills so rusty that were they mechanical parts, they would squeak terribly and probably be useless. I feel no urgency to brush up on verb conjugations or vocabulary, and if I am concerned about anything, it is my relaxed attitude.
If I were a sane person, I would be profusely examining my Spanish/English dictionary, or pouring over my translated copy of The Fault in our Stars. Instead, I am chilling in my coach seat, sipping complimentary ginger ale like it is a martini, and fixing my gaze on the blue geometric patterns of the unoccupied seat in front of me. My biggest concern in the world right now is the light chill from the pressurized cabin and the availability of peanuts on my flight.
When I arrive, I will be immersed in the Spanish language and Ecuadorian culture, living with a host family, and forced to get my bearings in an entirely new city. I am actually completely frustrated with myself that this is not a concerning issue, but it makes sense. The past two semesters of school have taken a major toll on me mentally and emotionally, and this trip is a chance to step outside myself and take things one moment at a time, the way that is so infamous of South American culture. I have spent so much time over the past few months stressing about what the future holds and where I see myself in 5, 10, or 15 years from now, and I am welcoming the idea of being completely vulnerable (well, not completely, that would be very unsafe) to a new culture and just going with the flow. I am going to learn a language. I am going to get to know new classmates and a new family. I am going to a continent, country, and city I have never been to. All of these things would cause a reasonable person to feel concern, but not me.
I know that I will have no choice but to learn and adapt to the new language, my host family, and the inner workings of the city. It will happen, and the only power that I have to stop it would really be to just not go. This trip is probably the best thing possibly for my mental state—for the first time in as long as I can remember, I am accepting my undetermined yet evident fate, and any attempts to change to my calm outlook would be futile. I’m already on the plane to my connecting flight in Miami; there is no turning back now. I have accepted these upcoming challenges as inevitable, and I have realized that no amount of worrying will help me deal with them gracefully.
So wish me luck on this adventure and I open myself to new experiences; such as living with strangers, bargaining at craft markets, and breaking my 9 month vegetarian streak for the cultural experience of sampling Cuy (if you don’t know what that is and have a strong stomach, by all means Google it!). I know it will be a trip to remember and I can’t wait to share it with you all. And who knows? Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet that I have left. I know that my heart is still in Minneapolis with my friends who are also doing their fair share of traveling this summer, and maybe the nerves will set in when I arrive in Quito, or even after our next stop in Miami. Regardless, in a week or so I will be completely content, adjusted to the Ecuadorian life and snacking on fresh avocados to my heart’s content.
Until next time, friends!