Outbounds 2005-2006

July 13 Journal

I’m leaving on a jet plane….

And, until very recently, it hadn’t quite sunk in that, on August 20, about 5 weeks from now, I would be leaving everything I’ve ever known to go to Belgium, a country I’ve never even visited, a country with a language I’m not fluent in, nobody I’ve ever met, to live with a family that I’ve only conversed with several times through e-mails in only French. Oh yea, my first host family doesn’t speak English.

Several weeks ago, after a series of reminders as to how very soon I was leaving, little comments from friends such as “wow, you’re leaving in about 6 weeks right?” or “so how do you feel about leaving so soon?”, reality and I had a little falling out. Unable to face such an enormous truth, I hid in bed under the covers with a pile of books for about 5 days, drawn out only to eat and see those I care about most.

“Already I’m so lonesome I could die”– Leaving on a Jet Plane

Finally crawling out of my hole, and facing the daunting task of preparing to actually leave, I started writing down all the hundreds of little things left yet undone, making the overwhelming slightly more manageable. Actually preparing, and thinking about all that the year would hold for me, instead of just looking at my exchange year as one long year away from all that I love, filled with huge personal challenges, helped immensely.

I began to wonder what meeting my host family at the airport would be like, what I would need to know in French to make that first meeting great. What would I call my host mother and father? I remembered that I will have an orientation weekend several days after I arrived in Belgium, and began to anticipate meeting all the other Belgian inbounds. I love my District 6970 outbound class, and meeting all these new exchange students, in my same situation would be a happy reminder of home and good times to come.

So, I’m not quite so afraid now. I’m still anxious and overwhelmed, but I’ve already begun leaving. My friends and I have begun a quiet withdrawal, with understanding on both sides that we’ll talk while I’m “over there”. I have someone I love more than anything who wants to see me when I get back.

Al joked about us outbounds misbehaving, so our parents wouldn’t miss us quite so much. And my mother and I, after an initial feeling of distance and discomfort and endless arguments, have begun working on being less mother and daughter, and more friends, and companions, and roommates. She told me that one thing she had finally learned about me was that I needed to make my own mistakes, but that I knew how to learn from them, so she was giving me my chance to be a kind of trial adult.

Thank you mom for letting me find my independence before I’m thrust out into the world, in a new country faced with all sorts of other unknowns.

Thank you dad for being my best friend and being that ear on the other end of the phone ready to listen to anything, even if it just involves several minutes of sniffles and comforting.

Thank you friends, for being there for me, for listening, for doing your best to understand, and for your confidence in me.

Thank you Al and John Brunner for reminding me of everyone who is there for me, all the Rotary people on both sides of this globe watching out for me, reminding me that I will by no means be alone on this endeavor.

And thank you all of my outbound class, I love you guys, I’m excited to read and hear about each of your adventures like we have with the last outbound class, except I know all of you, and think you’re some of coolest, most wonderful people I’ve ever met.

Anna

September 10 Journal

How do you describe being born?

How can you explain your world when every part of it has a story that needs to be told?

I guess I’ll begin the way everyone does,
I arrived at the airport…

Looking around in the plane, I smiled nervously at the other exchange students I’d met in the airport in Washington D.C. Some were anxiously adjusting luggage, some were discussing the French to use with the new host parents. Thanks to Bonnie from NY, I knew a couple of French phrases not to use with my new family.

We hurried off the plane, only to realize we still had customs in front of us. After much waiting, and collecting our mass amounts of luggage, we were faced with our first challenge “where was the door?” well tired as we were, collectively we knew enough French to escape, and there it was, our gateway to Belgium.

Right off the bat, I made my first cultural error. I tried to use the formal three kisses, while most everyone uses the informal one. Well no worries, everyone just chuckled, but I soon was faced with another challenge. My host brother Jerome was leaving for Canada, and I had a whole sobbing host family to handle. This is difficult after several days of little sleep, an international flight, and saying goodbye to everything you’ve ever known and loved.

Finally the car and the hour ride to Liege, my new home.

Sparing the gory details of the first day, difficult as it is for everyone, I recommend to all future exchange students to go to sleep as soon as possible. Don’t try to be Superman, don’t try to see everything yet, you have a year, sleep and the world will be a much brighter place.

French becomes easier with each passing day, but the fast paced French of students and teachers is still very difficult for me. I agree with Hannah on the easy habit of saying “oui” all the time and receiving that “that didn’t make any sense face” in return.

There’s a wonderful history of exchange here. Every January students arrive from Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, and some from Brasil. By August when the new students arrive, they’re called “oldies” and they take their responsibilities to the “newies” very seriously. Your oldie is usually designated by whether they’re in your host club host, but some will simply adopt you. This system is not managed by Rotary, but by a simple feeling of duty to others who are like, what you once were. An “oldie” can show you the bus system, introduce you to friends, explain cultural differences and just be there for you. We have traditions that reach back ten to thirteen years that are imparted to us by the oldies and that in January we will pass on to the new generation of exchange students.

School has started and it’s pretty difficult, but the teachers are wonderful and the students are amused by myself and my fellow exchange student Tina from the Philippines. Math is impossible, French unintelligible, Chemistry oddly satisfying, English is resisting the urge to teach the class, Art Expression strange but fun, and lunch as usual one of the best parts of the day. Tina and I are both 6^th year students, so while new to the school, we still feel a sense of pride at being the oldest. Our Belge friend John has nicknamed the little students “hobbits”.

The concept of Belge waffles is one that I only thought I understood. They’re never for breakfast, they vary city to city, though only a Belge could explain how, and they’re amazingly good. Covered in chocolate, sugar, or sort of cinnamonized, I must learn to make them before this year is out.

Chocolate, also amazing, though the Belge laugh at how much we want to eat it. Then there’s the beer, such a huge cultural thing. Our Rotary club actually gives us two beer tickets for our dance, and after being here awhile you can only laugh and say “how Belge”.

Being here means:

No top sheet

Weird spreads for sandwiches

A strange obsession with Pitas

Beer is water for the Belge

It’s not fries, it’s frites, and they’re bigger and better

Frites as a side dish at dinner, in sandwiches, everywhere

You never insult the fries, beer, chocolate or waffles

Mayonnaise on everything

Dog poop on the sidewalk, don’t know why

New keyboard

Bad opinions of the Flemish part of the country

Nutella, never peanut butter

The only American music is rap, and cheesy oldies
cigarette butts in every single crevasse of the cobblestone sidewalks.
bisous (kisses) and bonjours from everyone
military time, but only some of the time
Exchange student best friends from every part of the globe.
Running for your bus.
Getting locked in the bathroom because you can’t figure out the key.
Accidentally speaking in French when talking to your friends back home.
Using msn instead of aim.
Being asked for your card after hanging out with exchangers

Belge French being different in random ways than France French
Serious pride for living in Liege vs. Bruxelles

Nightmares after only a couple of weeks about leaving

Techno, everywhere

Random festivals

A month off for Easter and a week for Carnival

Franglais

Boys with better fashion sense than the girls

Appreciating all that the world has to offer.

Having been here almost three weeks now, I want to thank Florida district 6970 so much for beginning an exchange with Belgium, this is truly an incredible place.

Anna

October 20 Journal

So now, I’ve been born, and I can tell you about growing up, and learning to speak.

It feels like a week ago I that I wrote my last journal, but I remember that feeling of reading the outbounds’ journals and wanting desperately to know what it’s like to live in each different country. So, for those considering Rotary Youth Exchange, here’s my journal.

I will have been here two months tomorrow, and while the first month went much like months do, the second has passed in the blink of an eye.

School is still incredibly difficult, but not having understood anything the first month doesn’t help. The professors are used to my blank expressions by now, and my math teacher stubbornly greets me with the most heavily accented “Hello” he can. The students are great, yes there is somewhat of a language barrier, but we both do our best. I have grown to love and depend on the morning bisous, the exchange of kisses and casual ça va’s? And nothing to pick you up on a dreary morning of cold, rainy Belge weather than a barrage of welcomes, and being called mademoiselle to make you feel special.

I decided the best way to pick up more French would be to take a class, and I found a good one at the local University. There are a lot of Erasmus students (college exchange) in Liege and consequently my class is very diverse and filled with students committing all different sorts of grammar mistakes, which is great, we cover the gambit in class. But from the absolutely painful level exam, I must have changed classes 10 times. I was given a class far too easy and at absolutely the wrong time for me, and as of today, I’ve had to move up two class levels, and two time changes later, we’re there.

So having begun to get French, I’ve acquired this bizarre craving to learn any number of new, random skills. I’ve joined a yoga class and an oriental dance at another branch of the university, and am planning on taking a guitar class at the start of the New Year. It’s like conquering what I thought was the impossible task of being able to speak French, learning the bus system, adjusting to a new family and way of life, and any number of little things, I’ve defeated my fear of beginning any new task. I now have an insatiable hunger for knowledge of anything. You know those random skills that some kids have? Like being able to juggle, or skateboard, or do any talent show worthy thing? I’ve felt my entire life like I was left out in that department, reading wasn’t something to flaunt, it’s to my knowledge impossible to horseback ride on stage, and now I don’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone, I just want to learn everything.

There’s also something called Guides here which is much like Girl Scouts back home. I joined the other week and am now a counselor for the Nutons, aka the really little girls. But, my intentions of going on a Saturday for a session just to check it out backfired, as usual. What I thought was just a trip to check it out, turned into me going with some other counselors on Friday, and spending the whole weekend there and returning home Sunday afternoon. Mind you, I knew no one there. But situations like that is what being an exchange student is made of, you make the best of it, and make new friends. I had a couple of uncomfortable moments, I personally I’m not at all affiliated with any particular religions, at least Western ones, and apparently Guides is Catholic. No big deal I thought, I can do prayers before dinner and such, but an hour or more worth of singing religious hymns and such, made me feel decidedly uncomfortable. These things happen though, and I took it an opportunity to learn some new French words.

I haven’t yet gained that infamous Rotary 15 yet, but I’m really hoping that’s 15 lbs, not 15 kilos (2.2lbs). But, Belgian food is not for maintaining a trim waist, and I don’t care! That’s my triumph of the week, my friend Thea and I have named our stomachs, and work on considering it well earned. Rotary makes you look past the exterior anyhow.

So, life being life and all, even if you do live in Europe, there’s been a fair share of frustration and the resulting waterworks. A couple of weeks ago I was explaining what leaving my friends and family was like, and if I was interested in having them visit later in the year and how it would affect me. I kept trying to explain that having done it once, I knew what to expect and felt I could handle it again. My host parents didn’t understand the explanation in French however, so they asked me to say it in slow English, using NO French words, and that for me is hard, I speak pretty much Franglais now. Nope, that failed too, by then I’m frustrated, fed up, and ready to give up on the explanation, when they ask me to then write it in English. So I begin to try, and the tears just start flowing, it’s a sensitive topic anyhow. My family though really did the best thing, they let me finish, they didn’t even mention that I was crying, which probably for me would have made it worse, they just let me have my peace and continue on as normal. Today, for example was one of those mornings where you wake up and end up wanting to hide under the covers because nothing goes right. Somehow between reaching for something on the bathroom counter and holding my perfume, the perfume slipped and hit the edge of the sink, somehow that broke the thick container and it knocked my container of tea tree oil for my nose piercing on the floor along with some of my makeup, the glass of course broke, and now I’m sans tea tree oil and my favorite perfume. This is life, merde happens, and hey, now my bathroom smells really good. Plus, I then went downstairs and explained the entire situation in French and used the “je ne suis pas dans mon assiette aujourd’hui” (I’m not on my plate today) expression that I’ve been meaning to try out, and my host parents couldn’t have been more understanding.

The more that happens to you, the better equipped you are to handle the next thing that comes along. Everyday I’m thankful for the bad that’s happened to make me stronger, and the good that keeps me coming out of the covers every morning. And, I’m proud to say writing this was incredibly difficult, I can no longer spell in English, and a dictionary was even necessary once or twice.

To thank Rotary, I’ll leave you with a few anecdotes.

I was lost in the village near my house a couple of days ago, and asked an elderly woman for directions. She was more than happy to help and she took me by the hand and led me to where I needed to go, she told me “I know it must be very difficult for you, my daughter was a Rotary exchange student in America years ago”. I also discovered last week, that my good friend Florencia, from Argentina, is the daughter of the family Christian is living with. Rotary, thank you for making the world such a small place.

December 16 Journal

I’ve quite honestly forgotten where we last left off, everything that’s happened since my last journal. But, that’s a good sign, it means I’ve been keeping myself busy, and looking forward.

Right now I’m a bit like a child of divorce. I have since changed host families, to my second, several months ahead of schedule because of certain unfortunate events causing my first host brother to be sent back from Canada and leaving me short a bed chamber. As of this moment though, I’m not even with my second host family, I’m with their lovely neighbor Dominique and her sons, who have adopted me while my host mother visits her daughter in Australia for two weeks. Moving literally across the street for two weeks was a change I was quite upset about making. I had just gotten really settled in and comfortable with my host family, when I had to pack up my life again, and move across the street for two weeks?! This seemed to me ridiculous, very very sucky, and unnecessary. I did it though, I’m an exchange student, we bite our tongues, buckle down and do what is demanded of us. As good fortune had it, Dominique and her boys are wonderful, I feel perfectly at home here, and have discovered a common passion for horseback riding with Dominique, I may even be able to ride now!

School, well the students at my school have exams now, and the couple I’m taking are next week, so I’ve really begun missing the grueling routine of waking up at 6am, talking a half an hour bus ride and walking 20 minutes in the freezing cold to see my school mates. I miss being challenged to thumb wrestling matches in class, surprising the students with understanding when they’re talking about me, and the general routine it gives to my week.

I’ve been keeping busy though. I volunteered to help a woman from my Rotary club pick up presents and bring them to an orphanage, and next week I’m going to see the children open them for Saint Nicholas. I wouldn’t say it was just a weekly good karma thing, it was a real wake up call for how fortunate I am with my life and how much of a home I really have here.

I’ve also finally picked my return date home, and while having a real ending to the year makes it seems far less yawning and intimidating, it also makes me want to be super exchange student! I will watch cheesy soaps and understand them in French, I will get to know the names of everyone in my Rotary club and attempt to be at every meeting! Of late I’ve found myself just wishing to go down that rabbit hole, lose all contact with everything, and become Belgian, dun dun dunnnnnn…. Immerse myself so deeply that at the end of the year, I look up, find so much accomplished, and still ask myself where the time went.

Hey my fellow outbounders!!! Keep up with those journals, I love you guys and can’t wait to see you in 7 months or so! I know it’s hard sitting down and explaining such a crazy year of our lives, but seeing each of your perspectives on your year is almost like getting to live there and experience it all with you, and right about now, I wouldn’t mind sharing some of that Brasilian weather with Jessie.

Oh yea, and I kinda did that exchange student thing and cut my hair…

February 20 Journal

I know, I know for sure that life is beautiful around the world.

– Red Hot Chili Peppers

Yada yada, the usual apologies for my tardiness in this latest journal. As every exchange student out there can sympathize with, I’ve been very busy.

Today I find myself in good health, and relatively good spirits. Tomorrow is my 6 months here in Belgium mark, what was only too recent feels like a lifetime away. The other night I had my first dream that I can remember at least, in French. It involved rainbow colored bridesmaid dresses, exchange students, and blueberry muffins, decidedly odd. I’ve successfully watched Amélie and L’Auberge Espagnol (The Spanish Apartment) in French and understood them completely. I watched my first Opera, in German, with subtitles in French and Flemish and kept up a running translation for some of the newly arrived exchange students. I found myself nodding along to the story line, and chuckling with members of my Rotary club over the dirty jokes in the second half of the story.

At the moment I can only find myself looking forward to all that awaits me as I enter the last stages of my year as an exchange student. Tomorrow is my last day of school for a week and a half as Belgium begins its celebration of Carnaval. Carnaval is really only an excuse to eat lots, drink lots of beer, relive hundreds of year old customs for a few short days, and then begin a month of repentance on Lent Wednesday. I plan on traveling around Belgium with a few fellow exchange students and maybe even a Belge or two and experiencing as much culture as possible. This means I will find myself wearing a ridiculous mask, avoiding drinking live fish, watching Flemish men dress up as ladies, dodging oranges, and all sorts of other charming local customs. Then, next Thursday I will be changing to my next, and last host family family the Cremers March 2.

Their daughter Amélie is in Florida (Salut Amélie!) and my friend Thea will be staying in their house about another two months after I arrive. The family consists mom Bernadette, dad François, twenty something older sister Delphine, my fellow American Thea, and their cat, Pussy. We’re working on becoming one of those strange and wonderful families that only Rotary can bring together, with a dad who’s a bee keeper but allergic to bees, an incredibly sweet host mom with an insight that has us convinced she’s really Jesus, a host sister who’s fond of snowball fights, tweety bird, and TATU. A cat who’s name is Pussy, and is pronounced as such, with her own chair at the dinner table, and Thea, an American with a Michigan accent, my other half in some alternate universe, and a penchant for couture and rap music. My current family is a dad named Jean François who owns an insurance bureau in town, and is obsessed with food and everything associated. My host mom Martine is a blonde after my own heart, who enjoys breaking out into monkey impressions, giving hugs, making fun of the boys in our home, and chocolate. I have a host brother Steven from Australia, who’s been in the house since mid January and is slowing working on turning me Australian. I still fear Vegemite, but I have actually said cheers mate, duner (instead of duvet), brekkie almost came out instead of breakfast and other numerous slips. I’d like to think that he is slowly turning a bit American as well, and has certainly picked up numerous Anna and Theaisms, to the point that his family back home think he ‘sounds funny’. Our life is an adventure as we navigate things like understanding the mechanics of the drain in French, chocolate breasts and penises for Saint Valentine’s day, and above all surviving this country and its infernal weather. It can actually snow and rain at the same time here, be within one day snowing hard, gray cold, beautiful blue and sunny, snowing, and raining.

I have passed my 17th birthday recently with small celebration, and am already beginning to feel much advanced in my years.

I have just signed up for the SAT in June and of course anticipate it with much relish (I kid). I find myself being young and cursing the conformity (my fellow outbounds understand) of standardized testing, school requirements, and oh my god I have to apply to college in the fall, stress. I think for the most part I’ve decided on art school, who knows where, to study Art History, and Photography and at some point pick up Spanish and Italian. I’m beginning to assemble a portfolio of my photography, work on a few photography contests and have convinced a few friends to be subjects. Scheming on how to somehow spend a month in Australia, Brasil, Italy, and visit every exchange student friend I’ve met.

I’ve discovered that I have very few free weekends from now until I leave in a little over four months.

Feb 25- Belly dancing Spectacle, ah I have to perform in front of a crowd with my class!
Feb 27-3 Carnaval, traveling Belgium and changing families
March 7- Death Cab for Cutie Concert in Bruxelles
March 11- Mexican Party
March 17-19 Paris with my third host family
April 1-17 Easter break, Ireland?
April 23 Walibi theme park with Rotex
April 28-1 Holland for the Tulip Festival
May weekend- Visit to the North Sea with third host family
May 25-27 Talent Show with Rotary, aka making exchange student boys belly dance
June 3 SAT
June 15-29 Euro Tour -Munich, Prague, Vienna, Salzburg, Venice, Sienna, Florence, Pisa, Nice, Cannes, Monaco, Avignon, and Lyon

July 2 FLORIDA

This of course doesn’t include various cultural parades and visits with Rotary to sights of interest in Belgium.

Have no fear future exchange students, you will not have time to miss home after Christmas.

I think for now that’s about all. I’d like to include a quote from my mom

Mom’s friend- “I’m really looking forward to meeting your daughter”

Mom-“Me too”

I love you mom and family, and congratulations to my brother and sister in-law on the birth of their beautiful new baby boy Dane. I’m now an auntie twice over!

Happy Valentine’s day to all, until July 22 at the Welcome Home Banquet!

Pictures will be sent after Carnaval

Love Anna

April 21 Journal

Putting off the inevitable of course will not make anything easier, so two months after my last journal and I have finally been knocked off the most recent journals list, I have seen the future outbounds take the same exact pictures we took the year before in our fresh, white Rotary tee-shirts, I might as well fill you in on my multitude of goings on. Today, I have been here 8 months in Belgium, and I’m not sure I can even remember all the things I’ve done since my last journal.

I last left you right before my week off for Carnaval anticipating pictures which can be found below. A small group of us decided finally to go to Binche in Northern Belgium, to what is one of the biggest celebrations of Carnaval in the world, and avoid being hit by oranges. The day consisted of being rained on, snowed on, confettied on, and being politely handed oranges by a small little boy in the traditional costume of “les Gilles”. That was not the best Carnaval ever, better came a month later. I also participated in a local dance festival with my belly dancing class (danse oriental) to celebrate Oriental Dance from around the world as well as Arabic culture.

After a year of conquering scary moments such as; learning a foreign language, getting on a bus and being lost for 3 hours, figuring out how to change trains in a Dutch speaking city, hokey pokeing in front of a room of ex exchange students, moving to a foreign country for a year, and crying in front of a family you’d only known for 12 hours, belly dancing on stage with my classmates in front of a large audience of strangers didn’t really feel that scary. I did it, I did it rather well I think, finessed my way out of my scarf falling, and enjoyed the evening watching people from the ages of 5 to 60 enjoying the art of dance on stage.

Finally came the day when I went through the incredibly painful process of changing host families, packing up my life into two suitcases (and a couple of extra bags) and moving a little farther into the country Chez les Cremers. Obviously the transition wasn’t too traumatic as my best friend lived there and I’ve been visiting the family all year, but all the same, it was a weird feeling, knowing that the next time I packed my bags like this would be when I went home, that there was no more “next family” here. It was the beginning of March, 4 months left. Lucky Lucky me, a week after moving in with my new family, we all went to Paris for three days to see the Eiffel Tower, les Champs Elysses, Montmatre, Notre Dame, the Gardens of Luxembourg, just you know, the usual Paris sites. But this time, I went (well took the elevator) all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the very top, the itsy bitsy bit at the top, and I’m terrified of heights, absolutely terrified. It was probably one of the most frightening moments of my life, and I lived! And opening my eyes coming down in the elevator from the top floor was such a rush of accomplishment.

A couple of weeks later, my host sister, my host father, and I went to the Carnaval of Stavelot in Belgium, not too far from our house. Here we experienced another kind of carnaval, being beaten by masked men and boys with balloons blown up from intestines, hit by dead fish on poles, and absolutely drowned in confetti. Here also my host father played a rather nasty trick on me knowing my absolute dislike for cheese, he handed me over to a float where they put me in the stocks, spanked me with a piece of wood, and rubbed my nose in the nastiest cheese in Belgium, quel horreur!

Then came Easter break, oh lovely Easter break, lasting from the April 1-17. While my host sister was gone for a week visiting with her “real” parents, my host father and I went on a day tour of Belgium, visited the German speaking borders, one of the little villages that Hitler spared called Montjoie or Munchen in German I believe just because he found it so charming. There was this little plaque in the city as a memorial to those who died in the World Wars, and it was unnerving to see the names of entire families, men and women alike, in such a tiny village. We then went and visited the largest American cemetery in Belgium with thousands and thousands of graves forming a giant star. It was jaw dropping to see in person the sheer number of dead, it was almost unbelievable. Over Easter break I also read my first real French book, on World War II called Le Reseau Corneille, or in English Jackdaws by Ken Follet, 600 pages long!!!!!! Big moment of self accomplishment, I could now read in French, and understand! Boosted by this new found discovery I went on to read another two French books in a span of several days, suddenly, new entertainment!

And now, now comes me talking about the future and what I have before me. There rests just over two months left on my exchange filled with car trips with host parents, Rotary scavenger hunts, Eurotour, and a hundred last minute things.

I have since my last entry, dreamed in French two consecutive nights in a row, begun to think in French, found new European mentalities in myself, and realized to what extent I have become un-American. Called a friend from home and he was unable to recognize my voice, really really had the feeling that I don’t want to come home, and finally have begun feeling in my own skin, happy with everything, at home and a real member of a European family, and in essence, not foreign.

Here rests all my weekends until I leave, forced to make a schedule by my host dad, may they rest in peace.

April 22 Wallabi theme park with Rotary
April 23 Rotary Rally Practice
April 29 Rotary Trip to Royal Crypts/ Atomium in Brussels
April 30 Rotary Rally
May 6 Tulips in Holland
May 10 Fort d’Eben Emael with Rotary
May 13 Mexican Party
May 25-28 Belgium/Amsterdam trip with host parents
May 31 International folklore dance festival
June 3 SAT/ North American Party
June 10 Barbeque Goodbye Party
June 14-29 Eurotour
July 2 Florida

Good luck to you future outbounds, my only real words of advice are, enjoy every moment because before you know it, it’s over, and it’s the good old days.

Love Anna

La vie de l’étudiant d’échange est trop belle, et trop court.

July 1 Journal

Perhaps leaving my final Rotary journal until the day before I’m leaving wasn’t the best of ideas. At first I’d thought ‘hey, I’ll write it after Eurotour when I’m feeling all introspective and full of adventure stories’. Well I suppose I am both, but I am also overwhelmed, far too busy, sad, and decidedly incapable of encompassing all of what I’m going through right now in a journal entry.

Thursday, returned from my two week tour of Europe with 70 other exchange students. It was probably one of the best ways I could have chosen to end my exchange. Surrounded by close friends, exploring the Europe we’d come to love, full of adventures and a state of denial that most of us were leaving not long after the end of our voyage.

Reaching the end of the trip, I found myself in one of the most emotionally intense moments of my life. A flood of 70 exchange students, crowded around, sobbing, saying their farewells to friends they may or may not ever see again. None of us want to admit that we might never see each other again, but it’s there in the back of our minds when we’re tearfully begging each other not to go.

Time left, one day.

This evening, a final barbeque at my first host family’s house accompanied by my third host family.

Tomorrow, 12h10 Bruxelles to Washington, Washington to Jacksonville.

As for parting words, simply, treasure everything.

La Vie Est Belle

Au Revoir

Anna

August 13 Journal

“Life will go on, for good or ill.  The structure might be a little Crooked, but the foundations are still Strong and Unshakable.” ~Hunter S. Thompson

This quote explains a lot about the beginning of my exchange trip.  There are so many things going on in your mind before you leave, biting your nails over the thought of forgetting something.  Or when you get those wobbly legs when you first step off the plane and you don’t know if it’s the blood finally reaching them after that nine hour flight, or the thought of being just minutes away from greeting your first host family.  But it’s nice to think that it’s your feet that are planted here, you worked to get here and when you arrive it’s a great feeling to think “Well by God, I’ve made it.”  So all in all it’s important to know that even though your environment may be completely unreal you are the foundation of this trip, strong and unshakable.

I’ve been in Salvador for almost three weeks now and I have to say Thank you Rotary! Really you have no idea …this is what I do in the morning…ok when I wake up and look out my window, I see the beach and there’s always a nice breeze.  Then after the morning routine I make my way to the kitchen to pour myself a bowl of  Sucrilhos (su-cree-loos) cereal and some fresh squeezed orange juice.  Then until noon I do whatever, some studying, some room cleaning, some TV watching. Then around noon it’s lunch! Oh lunch is so good.

Ok so lunch works like this in Salvador: it is the most important meal of the day (kind of like the American dinner).  The most common food to see during lunch is beans and rice.

Then I’m off to school.  School here is a lot different than back home. The teachers are more friends with their students than administrators.  I learned this when I was given a tour of the school by the assistant principal.  This day happened to be his birthday (but I had no idea at the time). So we walked into this building and all these girls came out of nowhere hugging and kissing him on the cheek. I was thinking… “What’s going on? What’s happening here?” Then we walk into a class room and everyone is singing happy birthday in Portuguese and banging on the desks and clapping (making noise is very important here).  And he tells me he turns 35 years today and I was like oooooh ok…well very good, happy birthday! 

But that was just the tour. The next day was the real thing and I was really nervous. My mom and sisters were there to see me go as I walked out of the car and up through the gate to my school.  The same administrator was there to greet me with a girl from my class, Kelly.  We all walked up the many stairs to my room (2nd H).  Kelly and I wait outside the room for a while then another girl with curly hair kind of sneaks her way out to meet me.  The two girls are so excited they’re talking Portuguese to me and I just kind of look at them and make the …hmm I don’t know face…I tell them I can only speak a few words in Portuguese and can understand very little.  When I said this in Portuguese they looked at me with the same …hmm I don’t know face…then they paused for a minute and smiled and said ooooh and began giggling and smiling.  This was all happening while the curly haired girl was touching my hair, locking my arm with her arm – it was different but really nice at the same time.  I immediately felt like I was a part of the class, even though I was still standing outside.  Then I was finally allowed to go in and everyone just kind of looked and smiled. Kelly, the curly haired girl, and Maria pushed like five desks together and I sat in one of them.  They asked me tons of questions that all required the dictionary, kids were passing notes like crazy, all of this was going on while the teacher was doing his bit.  I’m thinking “what’s going on is this o.k.” but whenever the teacher said something about all the ruckus they would yell “americana ela americana!” Then the teacher would smile and say ooooh very beautiful.  But this sort of thing happened a lot! In fact the teachers walking by the room would stick their heads in just to say “americana es beautiful!” This went on all day long, and I realized that Brazilians say the word beautiful very well here.  But what took me by surprise is when biology class came and the teacher drew out the whole reproduction system of plants on the board and I realize the reason she is drawing this is because there are no books.  She doesn’t have a book, the kids don’t have any books, and there aren’t any books in the class.  Even though I can’t understand most of what she’s saying I can easily tell that she’s a very good teacher and really loves her work.  That goes for all my teachers here. It’s a different style they have here than back home.  School here I think is harder.  For instance my math class, there are no calculators, and they are learning very difficult trig. problems. Plus they put all their answers into decimals rather than fractions.  Over all school here in Salvador has been a great place to make friends and socialize.  I think it might be the end of their quarter because almost every other day it seems they have a test.  For the time being I am not supposed to take any of their tests so whenever I go to school on a test day they say “tests today, you can go home, no it’s ok go home.”  And I’m like I’ll go to the library and wait till break to talk to everyone (they look at me like I’m crazy) and they say “Don’t you want to go home to sleep or something? It’s really ok …you can go home.”  The library has about four rows of books for the entire school which is from basically kindergarten to high school.  So everyone works on homework or talks and very rarely you’ll get someone to tell you to be quiet.

The biggest culture shock here is the two kisses, one on each cheek.  It doesn’t matter who the person is either. I realized this when I went to shake the hand of my math teacher SIIIILVIO and I get pulled into the two kisses and I’m like ah!  This is with other teachers too when I see them in the halls, or my friends when I get to school. Everywhere it’s the two kisses, and it’s just so different.  When I fold my arms they tend to look at me funny like why are you doing that and I’m like huh? I never knew how simple gestures just don’t fit here.

What I love the most about school here is when I walk in and everyone is singing and banging on the tables and walls and desks and the guys are all dancing the samba.  They’re so animated here always talking with their hands,  no one is afraid to stand up and yell what they want to say.  In fact the other day we were all in the auditorium for some project the kids were doing for literature class on romanticism. They had to sing songs from the time period.  These were all Brazilian classics so everyone knew the words and eventually the kids who were sitting in the bleachers moving around and clapping their hands just couldn’t handle their seats any longer and were up on stage dancing.  One guy decided to say a few words on the mike to his girlfriend and la la la it was cute then like seven of the guys from class that were on the stage just dancing and doing whatever all came to the front of the stage with their arms around each other, got the mike and said this is for americana! and some more stuff in Portuguese that I didn’t all together understand but it was nice and they all sang a song for me – it was funny.

So I have to say that I’m really enjoying it here and I realized the other day from a true Brazilian why I am really here.  I was talking to him on msn and he told me “I love Salvador and I love the people here” then he asked me why I came and usually my answer would be to learn a new culture and language.  But this time my answer was “So I can love Salvador just as much as you.”  I know, how adorable is that? It’s so true though, there is no bigger goal I have here than that. 

October 18 Journal

ROOOTARRY what’s up from Brasil or more like “iai….beelleeza”

Wow ok I have sooo much news! This place is packed with culture and events and parties and dancing, the list can go on and on. The weather here is now getting even warmer as those of you in the northern hemisphere are slipping into the long underwear. Well maybe not Florida quite yet but you know what’s ahead as the air conditioners are gonna go off and the heaters are gonna go on, but here oh no buddy here its gonna get warm real warm. Even though my city is warm all year round they look at me like I don’t know what hot is. I say I’m from Florida, but even then they’re like, oh no ..its HOT. I asked my host dad about this (he’s been to more cities in Florida than I have), and he said to me, “it’s hot here Jessie but Florida, that’s hell!” hahaha This made me feel better because Salvador is on the coast so there’s always a good breeze and it doesn’t get as humid, so it wont be too bad. But it seems like the hotter it gets the more the people come out of their homes. There are more events lined up weeks in advance and you can almost feel the drums outside your apartment every weekend, and at night from the party that always has that o-so popular techno music. The language, let me tell you, is like eating Mukaka (a typical food here) its sticking to my ribs and each day I digest just a lil bit more.

So let me begin with the play I participated in …I was a curtain puller yaaay but evidently I even needed help with that too hahaha. It was tough though, those curtains were heavy. I also did a lot of prep work – this was a project that every class in my grade had to do; there are three classes. The subject was on how countries are becoming greedy over petroleum and getting to the point of destruction like….war…and the U.S. for example…or THE example. I tried to keep a happy face through this whole thing seeing as I was kind of a target in the midst of these once jubilant people. This project got to them and I realized it when I gladly whipped out my American flag and paraded around with it during the final construction of our project. Some asked me to choose between here and there. I gladly replied that there are comparisons between the two countries and I simply can’t choose. Then Marsio said while he had this ridiculous American hat on (this is the type of kid who can never be taken seriously – he’s full of jokes) and he said to me “to the fire” with my flag. I said “Marisio!! no you cant do that …I’m sorry ok…you have to give me my flag now,” but he had just too much fun running around with it like a cape. I learned a lot from this play and was really impressed with what our class had put together. There was no teacher to point the finger there was no administrator there to tell us when to practice or what we could and couldn’t do. Everyone worked very hard to make it good, I was surprised that I didn’t see any slackers or people sleeping or sneaking off – it was 100% effort and I was downright amazed. The next lil event on the list was a samba show – it was great fun. I went with a bunch of friends from school and everyone was very nice when they were trying to teach me their slick moves. I’m not sure if I have it completely down yet; I think I need that internal rhythm everyone seems to be just born with here.

The news on the TV was getting real interesting. The busses here, mass transit, taken by almost every Brasilian, posted that they’ll be raising the tolls from 1.50 to 2.20. This was a problem, and these Brazilians knew exactly how to reply – with STRIKES! There were tones, almost every day, traffic would be stopped, people would be in the streets, the news was getting way too exciting. Then one day at school my friend says “Jessie we don’t have school, come on let’s protest,” and I’m like, oh, alright. I’ve never protested before, I was really looking forward to it, but I didn’t expect anything that I saw. So I go out to this intersection and it’s huuuuggee … everyone from morning classes and noon classes and people are gathered in the middle. There were speakers set up attached to a microphone. People were sitting in a circle with green war paint on their faces. I couldn’t believe it, five lanes of traffic were stopped, only one was letting cars through – only cars, the rest were busses and they couldn’t get anywhere! Not past the green barricade we set up. These Brasilians meant business. Raising their bus tolls so people can spend more of their hard earned money that they simply just don’t have. The majority of Brasil are poor people, very few percent are middle class and even fewer are rich. The normal poor person in Brasil can barely afford to support their family – why would they have the money to buy a car. The average monthly payment is about 250-300R$ a month. This bus thing isn’t just something they can fit into their budgets, yet they rely on it every day. I was fighting a good fight and taking tons of pictures while doing so. The most memorable part of the protest is when all six lanes of traffic were stopped … the story goes like this: My friend Negou was all over the place, he had that walk like he was gonna make his footprint in the asphalt… I was proud of him going around with the nostalgic war face, this strike was brewing in him and now he was doing his best to make a difference. The sixth lane had cars come rolling through, the cars were then guided by my peers to show them where to go. When the next car came through she stopped and asked Negou what was happening. She, I guess, had that same fire in her belly b/c she turned off her engine put the emergency brake on and hopped out of that car. The crowd went crazy! People were singing and dancing and now no one was going anywhere! Hurraay Negou! After about an hour more of protesting, people started heading back towards the school. We took down the barricade, and we had to try to show the buses the way out. Traffic was a complete mess, and we eventually gave up. But this isn’t the first strike I’ve seen here – actually they have strikes all the time. There was one in the post office so it took like a month to get a package from my fam. Then there was a strike at the banks just a few weeks ago where they weren’t letting anyone get cash out. That was a beast because I had to put like ten dollars on food on my credit card and try and save all my cash for the bus ride home. But it mixes things up a bit … I kinda like it.

I don’t think I have a story to top that but I’ve still been keeping busy, especially this week. I’ve spent the night at my friend’s house two nights in a row, the next night was at a different friend’s house, and on the weekend I spent two nights at a Rotary/Interact meeting. I must say that was my first real home sickness …home sickness for my home here. Weird huh? But I was like, aaaah I want to go back to my house with my own bed and my own bathroom and eat at the table with my family. This shows you how much my family here has really provided for me and I am so grateful to have them here and have them be so good to me. I really appreciate everything they have done and I think when I come back with my little stories they get a real kick out of it. That’s what I like most is when we can sit and enjoy each other’s company. But so far this whole “you’re in another country” thing is incredibly fantastic. It’s shaped me in a completely new way, I’m no longer a “cold” American …yes we are, I have to admit. But that wall broke when Silvio my math teacher kisses my face almost every day at school so! I would have to say the whole weird foreign thing has gone now, but there are still those little culture shocks that still come out and get me. Like one day when I got up, took a shower, checked my e-mail, got some breakfast, and was like alright I’m gonna take a walk…. So I walk around a bit, go to the mall (I live really close to the mall). I’m out for maybe a couple hours and when I return home my maid tells me oh go take a shower. I’m like Maria! Why? I took one this morning? She’s like “you got hot go take a shower.. ok? I’ll make you food and when you’re done you can eat”. I said “OK Maria I’ll go take a shower”….and I did. But I thought that was just a special day, maybe I smelt bad, I don’t know. hehehehe. But if I were to even go out for a little walk she would say the same thing – go to take a shower, you’re hot. Then I realized talking with the other exchange students here, they were giving me the same kind of stories, and we realized that when you sweat you have to take a shower. Brasilians take about two to three showers a day, they’re so clean! Maria was a great maid, she loved to be in everyone’s business and was always talking and when she wasn’t talking she was singing. It made the house so interesting. So one day before I was gonna head out to the beach with some friends I said Maria what should I wear? I held up this long blue skirt and a white tank top she looked at me and said, oh no Jessie, that’s ugly. I said Maria!! Why? She said that skirt is too long you have to wear something shorter so I held up my shorts and she approved, now I was good to go. OK so those are my little Brazilian stories. Take care everyone – I cant wait to see you all and thanks fam, Rotary, the whole crew for everything … kisses! tchau

January 24 Journal

Who new Catholics could party! Man! I’ve been woken up twice these past few weeks with trumpets, drums, people dancing in the street.  This is like 9:00 in the morning and they’re already dancing! It’s best to be prepared for these sorts of things. Like last Thursday I wasn’t prepared – here is how the story goes. 

I’ve started taking drum lessons down in Peloriño (the kind of historical downtown – this area was first populated by the Portuguese – like our Plymouth rock). So every Tuesday and Thursday I take a bus around 9 or 9:30 a.m. and head over to my lesson.  Well last Thursday what I did not know was there was a big Bahiana festival. The Bahiana is like a Bahian (Bahia is the name of my state) – for example me, I’m a Floridian.  Well the typical Bahiana is Catholic and they have a big celebration every year to clean …well everything.  The Bahianas carry big things of water other their heads …perfumed water, is what they call it and they clean the street, the steps, the sidewalks, and dip leaves into it and shower the people in the street with them. 

So for me, when I woke up Thursday morning, I did the typical routine, and left for the bus around nine-nine thirty.  I’m sitting on the bus and it’s taking me almost 30 minutes to get just five minutes away.  I’m thinking maybe there was an accident up ahead, maybe something broke down… wow! why is there so many people in the street ….? I wait on the bus some more, probably making it up the road about ten yards in the past 10 minutes and it’s gettin’ a little hotter. A few people even left the bus and I’m thinking…. man they’re crazy leaving the bus, it’s gonna get better in a few minutes, we’re gonna start movin’ …..

Well I’m looking around and I notice that everyone is wearing white …Why is everyone in white …whoa! Everyone is in white! My host mom told me that for the first of January (the new year) everyone wears white but, it’s like the 12th of January now and that’s a long time to be wearing white …maybe its some crazy Brasilian event and everyone has to wear white…  I look outside some more hoping to catch some more breeze on the bus …..and woooww the people in the street are wearing white too … o-my-goodness did I miss the memo… is this like a special day… what’s goin’ on man!? 

I was completely in the dark so I turned to the lady next to me and asked why is everyone wearing white and she replies “You’re not from here are you? Where are you from?”  “I’m from Florida, I’m an exchange student.”  She tells me how excited she is to go to the party and meet her friends and how I should go too; bring some of my friends and have a good time.  It’s almost ten by now and the lady next to me just couldn’t keep it in, she had to go to this party.  So she wishes me all the best of luck here and tells me to go to the party and practically dances off the bus.  This woman is no teenager, she may have had her heels on and her lil’ skirt and top but she was probably in her late 40’s.  So I guess you never get too old for anything here. 

Well I spend about an hour more on the bus. Traffic is getting better and the wind is venting more through the windows when the teller stands up and asks everyone where they’re going. I realize that the turn we were supposed to make …we didn’t. And now I’m headed towards the opposite direction.  oh great I can’t believe it …we didn’t go by my stop…wait where am I ??   I ask the lady in front of me where the bus is going and she says Liberdade …I said “LIBERDADE! Isn’t that far?”  

She said yes and the man began asking everyone on the bus. Everyone replied Liberdade and not only was I skipped but everyone was going to Liberdade and I asked the lady in front of me, “Sorry but we’re not going to cidade baixo?” and she looked at me like I was nuts and said, “You can’t go down there, not today, no.”  whaaaat, what is she talking about? I always go down there – what is she talking about…oh my goodness where am I going? …  maybe Liberdade isn’t that far, maybe it’s close to downtown and I can walk to my lesson or something…  “But I have a lesson in Peloriño today.” And she said, “well, no busses can go down there, it’s crazy.” 

She told me how it was crowded with people because of the party. And now I had no choice but to sit on the bus and wait till it finished its route and went back to my stop where I got on that morning. So I sat and people came on and got off and I sat but I wasn’t bored … that’s the thing – you never get bored on a bus, especially since I was in a completely unfamiliar part of my city.   A more poor part of my city. 

It was interesting to see the people. I saw a kid probably no older than four with a cast on his arm walking with no shoes and shirt alone on the street.  I saw a man hike a wheelbarrow full of building rocks up a hill, again no shirt no shoes… it’s hot, it’s the middle of the day…. how can these people work like this?  Cars and buses are trying to make a two lane road into three and the people on motorbikes seem to race through traffic on all sides.  The houses were stacked to where it looked like gravity could just one day make them all fall like a stack of cards.  The windows and balconies were not decorated with curtains or shutters – they had people looking out them, faces of children and adults, probably to get some fresh air. Houses here sometimes have fans and rarely ever will you see them with air conditioning; considering the location I think that those houses have neither.  It’s all a different life, something I kept thinking I would never see in the U.S. 

It was a bus ride of just pure culture… it felt like one of those educational rides at Disney, like taking you on a little cart through some historical happening where you just sit and watch little mechanical figures stamp papers for other little mechanical figures to step through immigration, getting you to think that you’re back in the 20’s.  That’s what it was like except it wasn’t Disney and it wasn’t history. It was right now.  It was how people live in Brasil right now.  The only similarity was that cart at Disney. I was surrounded by foreign people, and there was a designated track that made sure I ended up at the same spot I started at.  With just a little bit more knowledge than before. 

We came to the turning point and I was the absolute last on the bus.  The teller and driver came up to me and asked why I was still there pretty much.  I told them they didn’t stop at my stop …and he said oh where were you going …I told him and he looked at me like that lady in front of me and just said “It’s crazy down there, no bus can get down there!”  I gave him that look like, well I know now, and he smiled.

The teller walked off the bus and the driver was talking to me about something and I looked out the window and the teller was takin’ a piss right outside the bus like that. I thought…ew man! that man gave me my change!… I use the bus more than twice a day sometimes and for the amount of people I saw get on and off today, the people who sell candies to the people, who just plain ask for money, and now with the teller who’s outside the bus peeing on the dirt like that … no wall no tree nothing … and I give these people money every day and they give me change aagghh…ew. 

I got over the grossness a little and opened up my purse to make sure I had a good amount of baby wipes.  Lucky for me I carry around more baby wipes than an 80 year old, and things like this just make me a little bit more glad that I do.  My throat was dry and the bus was heading back to my neighborhood.  I was so glad to get home … eat lunch with my fam, guzzle down some cold water.  Even though I missed my lesson and spent a whole four hours on the bus … I was glad that I got to go to Liberdade – I was right too…it was definitely far away.

June 13 Journal

Today I witnessed one of the most amazing things ever.

As you all know, or if you might not….Brazil is AAALLLL about the World Cup. I think it’s one of the biggest anticipations a Brazilian faces to see their boys duke it out on the “football” field once every four years. The first time I heard that the World Cup existed was right before I left for Brasil. (I know I’m so ashamed …but what can you do…I play golf.) I was completely confused how it works, why Brazil is crazy about it, and is it like watching a Gator game??

1. It is a huge soccer event that this year is taking place in Germany, Berlin. It occurs every four years. Various countries participate which makes the World Cup an intense global phenomenon.

2. Brazil LOVES soccer. To the core. They are five time champions of the World Cup.

3. NO! this is no college town and this is not college football.

Which brings me to my story….

Today was the first day I got to see the Brazilian soccer team in action. Everything has been built up to this moment, the start of the World Cup (for Brasil). It’s nothing like I could have ever imagined. I’ve been watching a lot of the games. Seeing the technique of other teams around the world play for only one goal…the cup!….I was at home with my mom, dad and a friend of the family George. We were all huddled in their bedroom with the gorgeous plasma screen, mmm felt like I was almost in Germany hehehe. I was on the bed with my mom and dad and their friend sat beside us in a chair. It was great spending time with them, and for such a memorable event. As the game commenced all our Brasilian bodies were exploding with anticipation – THE GAME! The two teams sang their anthems and then went to their positions. The two foreigners shook hands, the coin was tossed…it’s officially begun. I was impressed how fast the Brasilians were…it was like Kaká some super human speed, and Ronaldinho controlling the ball as if it had some magnetic connection with his shoe. Other players such as Roberto could shoot the ball with so much force you’d think it was a cannon. Robinho, 19 years old and such a great player.

But it’s when the first goal was made is what sent chills down my spine. It was by far the most unique experience in my life. You see a little prolog…. about Brasil is that today, work stopped for just about everyone at 2 o clock – the game starts at four. The entire city was stopped; more like the entire country had stopped. It was dead in the street, you could only see a few busses pass by. Brasil for the first time…was silent. Now that you know the set up… that first goal was more intense than the whole six days of carnival. First it seemed just a little bit more intense than a Gator game, my mom jumped up and screamed, then gave me a big hug – we were all just screaming at the top of our lungs, arms raised in the air, then my mom says to me… “now jessie” …as she opens the window …”look outside”. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life, for that moment after Kaká put that soccer ball in Croatia’s net, the TV became inaudible to the sound coming from a sea of buildings outside the window of my parents’ room. It felt like the Brasilian earth was shaking. The entire country was more alive than I’ve ever seen it before. I knew at that moment that this is something that I will never forget. It was like the country of Brasil turned into a huge stadium. It’s a feeling so indescribable but I know it’s something I’ll never forget.

For all of you exchange students who are leaving this summer to embark on new adventures in new places: These are the little morsels worth cherishing … these are the treats that are worth more than gold. Congrats! and Boa Viagem!

with love,

Jessie Cordasco

Bam!

September 2 journal

The first day of an exchange is much like being born again. Bright lights, being hugged and kissed by strangers. You obtain a newfound sense of innocence and naiveté. Speaking, reading and writing proves to be difficult, and your food is prepared for you. Much like a newborn, you are spoiled. Your heart pounds, all the while your stomach replicates a child’s shoe string.

When I wanted to start writing this journal, I couldn’t seem to convey the feelings one has in his, or her, first week of an exchange. Unless you have done it, you simply can not understand the emotions one goes through. In essence writing this entry feels as though I am preparing a speech for a deaf and blind convention. I apologize if that sounds somewhat arrogant, but in all honesty, I am just being well…honest.

Nonetheless I will discuss about my happenings, and whereabouts. I am situated in a nice-sized village known as Wissembourg. It is as French as French gets. The town streets are lined with shops, cafés, and fruit stands. On any given morning you will see old men playing Bocce in the park, while women carry fresh baguettes, direct from the bakery. Teenagers wiz by on mopeds while the younger children and elder men prefer the more manual form of transportation, bikes. The town is situated at the foot of the black hills, and just 10 minutes from the German border. Surrounding the village are fields and fields of corn, grapes, and apples. It sounds somewhat clichéd but it really is everything I read about in French class. The landscape is pure and breathtaking, it simply negates the contents of your wallet.

My host family is wonderful. My host father is a pharmacist, and owns his own local pharmacy. I have 2 host brothers, and a host sister. All three kids enjoy horseback riding. My youngest host brother of ten years is very adamant about me learning the language as quick as possible. Who knew board games with a ten year old could be so educational. We all eat lunch and dinner together every day, so whomever says the French lack morals, hasn’t the slightest clue. On that note, every negative stereotype I have heard about the French has proven to be false. They are warm, inviting, people and flattered to have foreign guest amongst them.

My summer comes to a close today, as tomorrow I start school. My last few days of summer consisted of a drive to the Maginot line, coconut ice cream, a German water park (where I learned no man is ever too obese for a Speedo), running up a mountain, and cafés. I think I hit the jackpot.

September 28 Journal

“Little acorn becomes the mighty oak” – The Fruitbats.

Month one has come and gone. Alors…

Born out of wedlock, the Alsace region is like the child of Germany and France. His parents had quite a few custody struggles (Franco-Prussian, WW 1, WW 2) and in the end his mother, France, was awarded custody. He eats dinner with his father (Bratwurst, Sauerkraut, Beer), and dessert with his mother (tarte, crepes, champagne). He embodies many traits from his mother, and more then he likes to admit from his father. For years he struggled with identity issues but has since evolved into a well rounded individual. I imagine Alsace and Switzerland would get along quite well.

Yes the analogy seems rather strange but its the most accurate description I could conjure up. When I wrote my last journal entry I think I overlooked the Germanic influence that fills the area, but shhhh, don’t let any Alsatians know that I said that. The Alsatians pride themselves on being individuals.

The last time we talked was the night before school started. Aside from my three, nine hour days, I really enjoy school. My first day resembled the testimonies of most exchange students. Following students, pretending to take notes, and smiling while shaking my head with indecipherable motions when questions were thrown my way. Nonetheless I survived. I think most exchange students will agree, the first few weeks of school are the most tiring days of your life. I was physically exhausted every day after school, and the 2-mile walk home seemed almost impossible. Luckily, I have a pastry shop that conveniently falls in the middle of my route. This isn’t just any pastry shop, this is Réber’s. The man chosen to represent all of France in global pastry competitions. And it just so happens he lives in my village, and my host parents are good friends with him.

I have been going to school about a month now, and understand a majority of what’s being said, and can carry on a conversation with classmates with little or no trouble. The only class I seem have any trouble in is “Sciences, économiques, et sociales.” I love the topic, it was one of my favorite classes in the states, but the vocabulary can seem out of my league on most days.

What I really like about school here is the lack of social hierarchy. Each morning kisses and handshakes are exchanged by all, regardless of the clique you fall into. Every day I eat lunch with a hodge-podge of characters. Which brings me to my favorite anecdote thus far.

Everyday someone shoves headphones in my face and politely asks “Can zoo make zees verds in French for me?” But this one particular character (5 foot nothing, and 120 pounds) wanted the lyrics for some god-awful 50 Cent song. In exchange for the lyrics he offered me his “gang’s” protection. Needless the say, I now walk the (cobblestone) streets of Wissembourg feeling a little safer.

Football, or soccer as some say, is my new sport of choice. I watch it just about every night with my host dad, and play with his team.

The highlight of my month was an afternoon trip to Strasbourg with my friend, and fellow exchanger Brandon. Being that it was a Wednesday, we got out of school at noon. From school we walked to the train station to catch the 12:18 from Wissembourg to Strasbourg. While on the train we joked about the amount of fètes, or festivals, the French have. In just my first month we have had Fète des Chevals (Festival of Horses), Fète de Vin (Festival of Wine), and Fète de la Bière (Festival of Beer). But I had never laughed so hard then when Brandon told me of his trip to the post office 2 days earlier. Upon his entrance he saw balloons, flags and tables filled with drinks and pastries. Fète de la Poste. Why Not? Back to the story. We arrived in Strasbourg, about an hour after departing. The train station in Strasbourg is a work of art, and I would soon learn that just about everything in that city is. He showed me the ropes, about purchasing tickets, where to punch them and where to check for your platform. We left the station hungry and in search of our long awaited lunch. Enter Kapob. It’s simply the best food I have ever eaten, and has since found its way into my regular diet.

Once filled up, and possibly overfilled, we departed for the Cathédrale. Upon carelessly turning a corner, my eyes opened as wide as they ever have. I have never seen something so large, and so detailed. After finding our way into a few German class photos we departed for the top. The spiral staircase, at times small, seemed to turn forever. Every now and then there is a little hole in the wall to show you how far you have climbed. Once at the top we walked through a little arch that led me to the maybe the most thought provoking moment of my life. How did they get this giant bell get up here? How did I get up here, or even here in France? The city expands across the land below and at the horizon are rolling hills and mountains. As I sat and watched the workings of a city, I decided my life is one in a million. Thank you Mom, Dad, family, friends, and Rotary. I love you all more then you know.

October 19 Journal

Round 3…ding…ding…

I have some advice for future/current exchangers and travelers alike…

Never ask what you are eating. The question itself is not rude, but your reaction to the answer may indeed seem, should I say, unmannerly? I.E.:

Mike – This is pretty good what is this
Host dad – Sausage…
Mike – I noticed you were a little hesitant with your answer, may I ask why?
Host dad – Well it’s “black sausage” mike.
Mike – That being…
Host dad – Sausage made from pigs blood.
Mike – makes a face similar to a fish being hooked.
Town Butcher (seated directly across from Mike) – You don’t like my sausage?
Mike – Rotary Smile. It’s…wonderful monsieur.

Time here has been well spent but I wouldn’t be painting an honest picture if I sugarcoated everything. This is life. I have homework, school, boredom, and a sufficient amount of frustration. If you’re reading this, and considering applying for the program, please note you will not be some happy go lucky tourist bumming around romantic, foreign cities every weekend. You will get homesick, you will get frustrated, and you will have rainy days (I say “rainy days” metaphorically and literally because quite frankly, I don’t really care for rainy days). With that said, you will also have sunny days, the best moments of your life, conceive unexplainable thoughts, and yes on some weekends you will bum around romantic, foreign cities. An exchange is an emotional roller coaster. You could hit rock bottom, and within an hour be at the peak of your happiness. But hey, this is what you’re signing up for, to push yourself. I hear it’s a lot like being pregnant. So to all the mothers reading this, we can break bread in that sense.

It’s fall here in Wissembourg. It’s a rather tragic season. Everything is dying but not without vibrancy. I’ve been deprived of this season for 4 years now. It’s really a shame Florida doesn’t have a real fall. There is a really neat sense of “preparation” that comes over everyone. The dinners are getting warmer, the heavy blankets are coming out, and all the men are chopping wood for the fires.

The park next to my house is covered with leaves. Walking in it has become rather habitual for me. It’s where I’m learning to be my own best friend. Before leaving I was a very needy person. For instance I dreaded a Friday night spent at home, but now I’m overcoming that, and giving a lot of time back to myself.

A few weekends ago 7 exchange students and I got together for the John Butler Trio concert in Strasbourg. One of the girl’s host mothers insisted we stayed at her three story apartment in downtown Strasbourg. (I know, I spent a paragraph talking about how tough life can be here.) I really “dug this pad.” It was situated right next to the massive cathedral I talked about in journal two. Every window and balcony offered a Kodak view of the cathedral and in the foreground were rows and rows of uneven European roof tops, think Mary Poppins. Before heading off to the show, I had heard there was a Mexican restaurant near the apartment. A Mexican/Australian (geographically impossible) exchanger and I were the only 2 that had ever known the word “enchilada.” After some convincing we all left to eat. It wasn’t La Nopalera but I managed to find some solace that night in dinner special #4.

With our digestive systems on their death beds, we departed for the concert. I didn’t know much about the artist beforehand but he turned out to be a really cool guy and had some good things to say about life, war, and poverty.

After the concert we did some dancing, kind of irrelevant but I like dancing.

When you spend a weekend with fellow exchangers like this it’s really interesting. Everyone is pretty like minded, and silently acknowledges that we’re all here with similar ambitions. This is the formula for good conversation and what I like to call “Tanner Family Moments”

This past weekend my host dad came home with tickets to the big soccer match in Strasbourg. This couldn’t have come at a better time for me. Earlier that afternoon I asked my host counselor if I could go on a trip to Sweden for a week with my English class. Denied. So you can imagine I wasn’t in the best of moods. When my host parents told me I was going to the match my spirits were lifted immediately. You see, I have been watching soccer just about every night with my host dad, so to finally go was pretty exciting.

The matches are unlike anything in the states. I noticed a large group of hooligans cheering at the beginning of the match. 30 minutes later I thought, “My gosh they are still going at it, and they haven’t let up one bit.” Strasbourg’s team isn’t even that good! Even when they were losing these guys were belting their team’s song. They sang non stop for 90 minutes. I’m not naive. I am pretty sure there was some beer involved, but nonetheless I had a new metaphor for “never give up” sitting just a few rows away.

Upon leaving the stadium a homeless man struck up a conversation about the match with me. The match wasn’t televised, so I made the connection and I thought, “This guy has no food, and no home, yet he insist on going to soccer games. Stupid? Probably, but he’s doing what he loves.” I had some thoughts that are pretty difficult to put into words. The best I can say is, do what you love, regardless of what struggles and setbacks you’re going to encounter for it.

Thank you so much Rotary. You have opened my eyes to what really matters in life. I wholeheartedly believe in this program and its motives. You guys make the world turn.

With Love, Mike

November 2 Journal

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” Henry David Thoreau

I’m standing on the balcony of a castle. A castle that lies on the highest mountain of Alsace. In front of me lays an infinite collage of villages, vineyards, and autumn leaves. So far detached from shopping centers and teenage demographics, I have formed a desirable bond with nature. You see, when you utilize a park bench as a school desk you are going to learn a lot. It’s not so much scientific information, but practical information. Take for instance something such as leaves. I couldn’t tell you the scientific logistics of a leaf, but what I could tell you is when you apply the life span of a leaf to your own, you will discover a wealth of happiness. Blow with the winds, live vibrantly, accept your change and pass on with peace. If I am Thoreau, then Alsace is my pond.

Today is the last day of my 2 week vacation. Lets recap…

I visited a castle with my host parents. Knights, drawbridges, the whole kit n’ kaboodle. I woke up to a gray, gloomy, rainy day. I came down to breakfast a little upset because of of the weather. I knew that we wouldn’t be going if the weather wasn’t spectacular. Lunch came and the sun started to come out. We took our chances and headed to the south of the region. I feel really guilty sleeping in the car because the landscape is always so pretty. We made our ascent up the winding roads and finally arrived at the castle. It was mind blowing. So much history. The castle was first built in medieval times. Over the years it became ruins. In the early 1900’s it was rebuilt for the emperor of Germany and Prussia as a place to stay on the WW1 front lines. I can’t justify how amazing every view was, perhaps some of the pictures can.

After our visit to the castle we headed down to a small village known for its white wine. I was walking up the streets with my jaw dropped. All I could do was wonder at what time “Mickey’s Toon Town Parade” was coming through. It was everything Disney ever aimed for, only this was the real deal.

I spent 2 nights at a friend’s house. He lives in a village about 20 minutes away. This village was about as Alsacian as you can get. His parents asked me what my favorite Alsacian dish was. I answered, “la tarte flambée” and without hesitation his mom insisted that we have it for dinner. Thomas and I rode our bikes through the town (when you get a license you really forget how awesome bikes are). As we rode down the sloped streets everyone we came across was quick to say hello, in Alsacian. The warm Alsacian greetings are so nice.

We played some soccer with about fifteen ten-year-olds. I really like little kids. They really make me want to be a teacher.

On the third day the family took me into Strasbourg. Thomas’ family was heaps nice, and got a real kick out of me trying to speak Alsacian with them. It’s a really interesting language. Most parents speak it, and although their kids don’t speak it, they understand every word of it. It’s a little bit of German, and a little bit of French. Nobody can write it either. I consider myself pretty lucky because the language is on its last generation, and it’s estimated to be dead in 30 years.

You wouldn’t know it was Halloween here unless you looked on a calendar. I searched the market for a pumpkin to carve but came up short.

We had a Rotary meeting. My Australian friend Brandon had to give his big presentation to our club. Our club is really small. Brandon and I are the only students. All the old men treat us like their grandsons. The presentation really put everything in perspective for me. Time wise that is. I swear I go to sleep on Sunday night and wake up on Thursday afternoons.

While at the meeting, I had the chance to meet my next two host families. My second family has a boy in Canada, and my third family has a girl in Texas. I learned that I’m moving in with my second host family towards the end of this month. Its going to be interesting. Doing it all over again, only this time I will have a clue as to what’s going on.

My third host family has a farm, tractors, and corn. I’ll be living with them just in time to start planting for the summer. I’m really excited.

Every visit to Strasbourg is a little more difficult then the last. 2 days ago I found myself standing in a department store just dumbfounded with the things people buy. As a society we have done a really good job at blurring the lines between “need” and “want.” You need water. You don’t need a Mercedes, you simply want one. I really like my rural, secluded village.

I leave you with my Top 5 for November.

5. Henry David Thoreau
4. Sigur Ros
3. Trying to speak Alsacian
2. Tarte Flambée
1. Nature (parks, mountains, trees, etc.)

December 3 Journal

Today, on my way back to school, I saw a woman get hit by a car. She was crossing the road and before I knew it her body went ragdoll to the pavement. She was still conscious when the ambulance arrived, but blood dripped profusely from her cotton white hair. For the rest of my classes I found myself staring out the windows wondering why people can be so frivolous when the end just might be around the corner. Take risk, be humble, and don’t be worried by trivial happenings.

As far as Mr. Walt Whitman is concerned I have been contributing my verses…

On the first Sunday of November, fellow exchange student Brandon and I went to a village festival with his current, and my third host family. Upon arriving at the festival we found a large dining hall with an abundance of Alsatian food and music. We addressed our appetites and preceded to court ladies on the dance floor. One of them being my third host mom, Mary Paul. I’m not too familiar with Alsatian folk dancing but she showed me the basics. She endured 4 waltzes and left smiling with all 10 toes intact.

After the festival we all went back to the house for some coffee. I have found that it is a good idea to meet your host families before actually moving in with them. Makes the move-in process a little more relaxing for both parties. They gave me a tour of the house and afterwards took me out back to see the endless rolling fields, and the bulls. Brandon and I kept our distance, all the while admiring our host dad’s fearlessness. Its a shame I left my Matador equipment at home.

Thanksgiving morning I found myself sitting through a 2 hour lecture on 17th century French poetry. My left hand on a sheet of paper, the right hand tracing around it with a pencil. I was drawing hand turkeys. In light of a little nostalgia, and regret for not preparing a big dinner, I marched into town and bought the pie I could find. I brought it home and explained the holiday to my host mother. I went upstairs to wash my hands for dinner and when I returned downstairs I found the table set with candles and Thanksgiving colored napkins, plates, and placemats. The color combination turned out to be a coincidence but nonetheless I was flabbergasted at how generous the Bonnaves have been with me. After our dinner, my host dad, Thierry opened a bottle of champagne and made a toast to me and wished me luck with the rest of my time in France.

A little later that night, while watching a soccer game Thierry called me to come outside. Snow.

All that night I sat in a trance, watching through my window. As the snow was mounting around the cars and sidewalks my feet screamed with anticipation, while thoughts reflected on the past three months. I couldn’t take my eyes away from the streetlights. I had never been so happy to be alive.

I woke up the next day to find Wissembourg blanketed in snow. I put on my new winter jacket, scarf, gloves and hat and made the mile trek to school. Everyone at school had the same feelings running through them. The first snowfall had come and with it came excitement, and a sense of winter camaraderie. My entire class decided to skip our hour of German and go join what seemed to be the entire school in a snowball fight.

That night I walked home from school with all the town Christmas lights illuminated. It was my last night with the Bonnave family. I came home and everyone got ready for a big warm dinner. They took me out for my last night to try the ever so popular escargots. I was really hesitant at first, but bit the bullet and “assimilated.” They actually turned out to be really appetizing. For dessert we had my favorite, “La Tarte Flambée à Pomme,” which is lit on fire right before you eat it.

The next morning I packed up my belongings and said my goodbyes. It will always be difficult to leave your first host family. They bring you into a new world and watch you take your first steps. After 3 months a room becomes a bedroom, a house becomes a home, and strangers become a cherished family. But changing families is part of the deal, and keeps things interesting. I remember Al told me “You’re not losing a family, you’re only gaining another.” And that’s just what I did.

My new family is wonderful. My host dad, Bernard is an amazing cook, and teaches me the finer points of wine, while my host mom Michelle is a Pharmacist. Dinners here are amazing and afterwards I talk to my host mom for an extended period of time at the table. They have 2 sons. One, 17, is on an exchange in Canada, and the other who is 22, is currently enrolled at Cornell University in New York. The latter of the 2 will be home for Christmas. Last Sunday, after lunch we took a tour of my new village Seltz, and visited the Seltz Christmas market. Children running through the streets, Santa Claus, and everyone talking over a cup of hot wine. While there I met the Mayor of Seltz who invited me along with my host dad to see The European Parliament in action. That said, in January we will tour the parliament itself, and get a chance to watch a session.

With all the emails I got in regards to the subject I feel as though I should take a second to shed some light on the riots. From what I saw, the American media portrayed every city as ruins gorged by mass hysteria. Yes, France has a problem with racism and poverty, but at no point was there an effort at a “Muslim led coup” as one American journalist put it. That said, don’t watch the news.

Be humble, and enjoy the things that don’t cost a dime.

January 26 Journal

“Here’s me overseas, across the pond by the Dover peaks. I’ve smuggled myself into new nationalities.”

-Matt Pryor

Time has quietly slipped 5 months out of my pocket in exchange for a plethora of great experiences. The last two months have certainly been a bombardment: beautiful landscapes, marvelous friendships, thought provoking conversations, 5 new kilos, and a few goodbyes.

I am really starting to establish myself here. I have inside jokes with kids at school, I know the train times like the back of my hand, and “I didn’t understand,” is no longer an excuse for why my homework is incomplete. Teachers would just respond with “Well Mike, you certainly don’t have any trouble talking to your friends during class, do you?”

Just to get it out of the way, I feel as though I have to say that you will find people who you don’t get along with on any continent, in any country. I found the best you can do is keep your spirits high, and try and find the better in them. They may say discouraging things, but just take it with a grain of salt, smile, move on and as mom always said, “be the better person.”

From the top…

The beginning of December marked the first weekend with all the other exchange students in our district. We had all met up before but no longer then a few hours. The day started with Brendon and I leaving school at noon to catch a 2 hour train to a small city in the south of Alsace. Once all assembled in Belforte, we were picked up by an array of Rotarians with whom we would be spending the first night. We were provided with an interesting cast of characters. My Rotarian happened to do some underground fur trading while another had boasted about a secret society he had belonged too. Nonetheless, they were kind enough to put beds and fine cuisine at our disposal. That night we all did some bowling. Bowling alleys are indeed an international institution composed of, but not just, creepy regulars sporting even creepier mustaches.

The next day we all met up for breakfast and were interviewed by the regional paper. We all posed for a bunch of photos donning our pin clad vest. The photos, nor the article did I ever end up seeing. From there we headed to the city’s soccer stadium to take a guided tour. We were shown just about everything and were even given the chance to run around and play on the field. After the stadium we piled back into our vans and headed back into Belforte to attend one of the region’s many Christmas markets. We danced, took pictures, walked around all while the street performers never fell short of providing perfect holiday music. That night we returned to the stadium to attended a match. All the girls complained it was too cold, meanwhile the hooligans in the section next to us opted not to wear shirts.

The final day we beared the cold weather and faced off against Rotex in an extremely competitive soccer match. Seeing as we were all from countries where soccer is not a religion (yes, they do exist) we lost. We then ate a fine meal with the local Rotary club. While on the topic of food and Rotary clubs, I would just like to say, at times, being a Rotary exchange student in France feels criminal. It seems like an elaborate scam set up to eat the best food possible all the while leaving each restaurant with my wallet intact.

We all said our goodbyes that afternoon, and headed back to our respective cities, and villages. Going to school after being with all the exchange students is always difficult.

One Wednesday afternoon Brendon and I headed into Strasbourg to see the much talked about Christmas market. Strasbourg boasts itself as the Christmas capital of Europe, and boy did it live up to its claims. The city squares hosted an array of booths. From homemade art to hot wine and crepes. Night fell and the the city became illuminated by lights strung from building to building. We purchased a hot wine, found a nice spot to sit and reflected on our years. All the while people passed, and musicians played. I tried my hardest to really soak up the moment.

Soon enough the Christmas break arrived, and my host brother returned home from college in the states. I spent most of Christmas break in my pajamas. I developed a pajama ridden routine that much differed from the usual French school days (8:00 a.m. – 5:30 p.m.). Christmas eve came before I knew it. My host grandparents came over for a big dinner and we all exchanged gifts. That night I also opened all the gifts that were sent to me from the states. I would like to say thank you to everyone back home (specifically Adam, Greg, Joey, and Mac – you guys went over the top and renewed my sense of humor). The holidays passed without any of the predicted homesickness.

For New Years, I went to a party in a village with a bunch of kids from school. Turned out to be a really good time. Nobody really watches the TV on New Years here so I was caught off guard when people started counting down. As we entered the new year, everyone exchange hugs, kisses on the cheek, and best wishes. Someone put it as a “bisous fest.”

Because Brendon was a southern hemisphere student, he completed his year at the beginning of January. We had more going away festivities then I can count. On his last night we all went out with all our friends from school. The night quickly passed and before we knew it, we had reached 5 o’clock, and it was time for him to say goodbye to everyone. He said encouraging things to everyone. I went back to his house where we slept until noon. When my host parents came to pick me up, we wished each other luck and parted not with “Adieu,” but, “A la prochaine.” I would just like to thank him for all the help he so willingly gave me. He’s a great mate, and if you’re lucky, someday you too may cross paths with him.

January brought a long overdue chance to explore this country I have been calling home. Along with 50 students from school, I departed for a week long ski trip in the Alps. While on the road, we crossed through Switzerland where we stopped at a highway rest stop. While in Switzerland, I “assimilated” and bought way more chocolate then necessary. The lady at the counter only spoke Swiss German, providing for an interesting transaction of chocolate and money.

We arrived in the Alps late that night. The next morning we woke up and got ready to receive our ski equipment. The instructor asked me if I was a beginner. Though I had never skied I dreaded the word beginner, and feared a week long crash course confined to the bunny slopes. So I thought for a second…”It’s probably just like ice hockey, and I played ice hockey for a long time. How could it be any different? You have some blades attached to your feet, only they are wider, and instead of one stick you get two sticks. I am probably already a professional skier and I just don’t know it!” I told the man with the equipment no, I had skied before. When he asked me what size skis I was, I could only give him a blank stare. Beginners group it was. I quickly learned the big difference between hockey and skiing are these things called mountains.

I could only help to think that our group, the beginners, were the Bad News Bears of the mountain. I made up one fifth of the ski crossed hodgepodge.

By the third day everyone pretty much had the hang of it and we had little or no trouble on the slopes.

For the duration of the week I shared a room with 6 other guys from my class. In this room, I learned that no matter where in the world you are, when you put a bunch of teenage boys in a room together, there will be people spraying deodorant on other people for obnoxious lengths at a time, someone’s mattress will probably end up outside in the snow, or a kid will get locked in the bathroom.

On the last day the entire group went to the peak of the mountain for a sunny picnic in the snow. Here was the prettiest view I had ever seen in my entire life. We also saw wild mountain goats, none of which responded to my calls.

Today I took a much anticipated trip to see the European Parliament in action. My host parents and I, along with the mayor of my village and some other locals headed into Strasbourg, to visit the European Union’s capital. We started with the European Council, where we saw a live session taking place. We sat above the chamber and watched as the council prosecuted a representative sent by the Belarusian totalitarian government. As tempers flared below us, I had way too much fun with my 9-channel translation headphones, each station projecting a different translation of what was being said on the floor. They were oh so diplomatic. I was amazed to learn that some of these translators spoke upwards to 11 different languages. Just as things started to turn on the fiery Belarusian, we had to leave in order to tour the European Union’s parliament. The difference between the council and the parliament is that the council is a body of representatives from each country that investigates different situations in Europe. When the investigations and debates are concluded they simply make suggestions. Whereas the parliament assembles once a month in order to vote, enact laws, and distribute capital. We got the chance to talk with some representatives, and they were kind enough to field our questions. For me, a political buff, this might be one of the coolest experiences I have had here so far.

And so I conclude, until next month…

“J’ai trouvé des amis. Je leur ai donné un peu de mon âme un peu de ma vie.” -Tryo

With Love, Mike

March 6 Journal

At times I felt as though I had a strong grasp on reality. Days where I woke up and felt like playing by “the rules.” Other days I would wake up and debate reality, and ponder a future riding the rails, and swear I would do everything in my ability to avoid a monotonous, day in day out lifestyle. I have recently learned it’s the median of my old thinking habits that turned a math class daydream into reality. I had an idea, to live in France all while walking the tight rope from childhood to maturity. I took the initiative, and worked to create a productive life that also strays far from ordinary. Everybody works for something that makes them feel alive. To some, that’s a new car, to others it’s experiencing the world.

Happenings…

On the exact day of my halfway mark I walked into town and decided to get a haircut. I will save you the story of making two trips to two different haircutters trying to convince somebody that I wouldn’t regret cutting it all off. When it was finally all gone, I felt ready to start the second half of my year.

I was lucky enough to take not one but two ski trips to the Alps this winter. This time I actually got to stay in Switzerland. Apart from feeling oh so neutral and eating way too much chocolate, I did some skiing and snowboarding. In Switzerland, people don’t seem to be too fond of chair lifts, rather little poles that go in between your legs dragging you up the mountain. Sure sounds easy until you fall off about a mile into your trip and are forced to walk another mile in snow up to your knees. One particular voyage I fell off in what felt like the arctic grand canyon. This remains the only instant of my exchange year where I thought “I want to be home, in my bed.” I sucked it up and finished my trek to the top of the slope to find the rest of my group.

A few days after coming home from Switzerland I was invited by a Rotarian to make a day trip into Germany. I have lived on the German border for 6 months now, and seeing as this was my first actual trip into Germany I was pretty excited. I spent the day walking around the city with the son of the Rotarian who was studying at a local university. Because he was a history major I saw him as a great person to spend the day with in such a rich city. We visited a castle and he showed me old trails where persecuted philosophers used to sneak around. After walking around a bit we decided it was getting chilly and took a coffee in a local café where we talked about secret societies, the new world order, and such.

Right before my two week vacation from school came to a close, I changed families. While packing up my things I could only help to think, “the next time I do this I’ll be going to the airport.” My third host dad and brother picked me up on Friday afternoon. I had already known the Hammers pretty well so the moving in process was much more relaxed and felt pretty natural. I live in a pleasant village called Kaidenbourg consisting of just 3 streets, and some 200 inhabitants. My host family has a farm and six cows. Life is good.

It has been snowing every day for the past 5 days so I took it upon myself to finally make a snowman. With the help of my younger host brother, I built my largest snow man to date. He would later be named Sydney. Upon waking up Sunday morning, I learned that somebody in Kaidenbourg is not to keen on winter fun and decided to ruin my five-foot-five carrot-nosed friend in the wee hours of the morning. Je vais te trouver, et quand je te trouve ça ne sera pas jolie…

I saw that the new outbounds had all been selected. Seeing those photos was just another nail in the coffin. I can’t even process that I have but 4 months to go.

To next year’s outbounds, congratulations. I can only really say that your exchange year is what you make it. It’s true that the first half can be tough, but take it from me, work hard and you’ll be reaping the benefits this time next year. Good luck, and I look forward to meeting you guys at the Welcome Home Dinner.

Until next month…

May 6 Journal

Spring has arrived, and with it came the long awaited, and highly acclaimed Bus Trip. The trip that consists of 52 exchange students, 14 days, 12 cities, 4 countries and 1 bus. A formula that can only produce the best of atmospheres.

My trip began at the crack of dawn on the 5:45 train to Paris from Strasbourg. Once in Paris, myself and the other participating exchange students from district 1680 would meet up with the rest of the group. From the eastern train station we were led directly to the bus where a few other kids had been waiting. A half hour had gone by when I realized the bus was packed. I still continue to be astonished at what happens when exchange students are together. The fact that we were all exchange students naturally made us amicable but because we would be spending the next two weeks sharing the same bus, hotel rooms and dinner tables we could sense the familiarity that was yet to come.

We did a quick (to some disappointing) bus tour of Paris, only stopping at the Eiffel Tower for what seemed like a quick photo shoot. From Paris we headed to Strasbourg. To a few of us this was home to us. I could sense a look of misunderstanding on the faces of the other exchange students who were not fortunate enough to have been placed in such a region like Alsace. I recall one person seeing all the local village names (Niederbroan, Ammerschwihr, Kaysersberg, etc.) and asking if we had already crossed into Germany. Once in Strasbourg we were let loose to find something to eat. Alsace being one of the more conservative regions, and the day happening to be Good Friday, everything and anything seemed to be closed. We trekked on, found some kepab, and proceeded to the guided tour of the city I thought I had known so well.

From Strasbourg we departed for Munich. This was one of the cities I had been really looking forward to on the trip. I can’t lie, before this year I had the impression that German culture seemed to fall on the colder side, but a trip to Hofbräuhaus certainly proved me wrong.

Within a 4 hour drive, what once was Germany became Austria and gloomy cloud-filled skies became clear as glass. We were more then mildly amused in the two lovely cities of Innsbruck and Salzburg. I found as though the sausage vendors and Austrian folk groups who were displaced in the streets proved to be crucial elements in making Austria one of my new favorite countries.

Next stop Italy. The drive through the Italian alps was astonishing but my tired state left me feeling rather guilty for not having my eyes plastered to the bus window. So I stood up, and let myself ride shotgun with the driver. We arrived to our hotel which was situated in what seemed like “any beach town U.S.A.” about 20 minutes from downtown Venice. Gloomy weather was back in town but that didn’t stop all the girls in Italy from donning oversized sunglasses that made them look more like insects then super models. I hate to be honest but I would hate it even more to lie. Venice, to me, resembled a pair of jeans from Abercrombie and Fitch. Meticulously dressed yet all too expensive. I did however amuse myself a little too much with the ever so famous pigeons.

From Italy we drove across the coast into the south of France. The most breath taking sights I have seen since my coming here. Villages perched on cliffs seemed to hang on for dear life. Like many places in the world the south means sunny weather which in conclusion gave us the first day where we could throw on a pair of shorts. A lunch break in Nice had me on the brink of making a down payment on some real estate. From Nice we went to a perfume factory where I learned about the most boring job in the history of employment. On the way to Marseille we made a small detour in a little seaside village. It was here that I was perusing up and down the streets with 2 other friends and happened to see 2 famous French actors. One of the kids who was present at the time happened to a huge fan of their soap opera and asked if we could take a picture. Later that night back at the hotel we watched the series and went nuts every time they came on the scream telling everyone in the hotel lobby that they were our friends. Didn’t believe us? The proof is in the pictures…

We left Marseille early in the morning and headed directly for Lyon. We only got a quick guided tour of Lyon. Everything I saw was through a bus window so I don’t feel as though I have much to say about this city although it looked like it could have been a good time.

Like every morning the loud banging on our door with a voice telling us we had 5 minutes to be in the bus became rather habitual for the kids in my room. We hit the road in search of Geneva, Switzerland. We took a guided tour of the United Nations headquarters. I learned a lot about bureaucracy and my tour guide conveniently denied any knowing of the New World Order and the powers that be. After the tour we were let loose yet again in search of a late lunch.

From Geneva it was off to our last city, Dijon. The ride was rather melancholy. Everyone had known the end closing in. After a fun night in Dijon we all woke our tired eyes to pack the bus for the last time. The group had already started to split with certain students taking the train from Dijon back to their respective cities, and villages. Those of us still remaining boarded the bus for a 5 hour drive back to Paris were we would be disposed at selective train stations. The goodbyes were hard. In two weeks these 52 kids had become family. We shared everything from headphones and opinions to hotel rooms and classic exchange student stories. These were the best two weeks of my life.

I returned to Kaidenbourg eager to see my host family and sleep in a real bed. I still had a week left of my school vacation to recuperate from the fatigue brought on from the voyage. Since then I have found myself back in the classroom, back to the simple life in my wonderful farming village of 150. For the past few days we have been anxiously waiting the arrival of a baby calf.

Life is perfect right about now. Ici tout va bien.

I would just like to thank my amazing parents and let them know how much I appreciate all they have taught me over the years. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

La vie est très belle. Alors, souris.

July 3 Journal

The curtain-call,

And so like all things in life, my voyage has come to an end. The last few weeks have been filled with every emotion you could think of. I look back on my year in France and can only smile and exhale with a sense of accomplishment and understanding. Nobody can take this from me. The size of my heart has doubled in making space for the amazing people that have graced my life. Whether it be my amazing host parents or the lady in the Paris airport who tried to convince me that going home was not the end of the world, I’m convinced people are good. Coming home is hard. I’m trying to embrace this culture without losing everything I learned to appreciate in France. It does a number on your heart, and feelings.

In a matter of a few days after coming, I moved to Miami to start college at Florida International. As for now, I will be studying French. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone at the welcome home dinner.

I would just like to again thank you all. La vie est belle alors profitez bien…

September 19 Journal

OK so where to start? I spent my last few days in the states saying my goodbyes and last minute packing. The morning of my trip I prepared myself for a very loooong trip.

The flight to Argentina was only ten and a half hours but I had to make a detour to Washington D.C. like many other exchange students from around the United States. Even though it was a little out of my way to fly three hours north and have a nasty wait in the airport, it was worth it. The exchange students on the plane with me were awesome. Like all exchange students are. We were loud and rowdy getting on the plane and full of energy and stayed that way for much of the trip to the chagrin of some travelers. I myself have a slight problem with sitting in a cramped seat for ten hours. The seats on airplanes really are not made for people over 5’5”. As the hours ticked by, the exchange students talked and played cards, listened to music or tried to sleep. Only about four people were able to get any sleep. As we closed upon Argentina I was entertained by a wonderful lightning storm out my window. It was so beautiful and I could see the flashes in the different thunderheads because we were up so high.

Once we landed and got into the airport we faced the “challenge” of customs. The customs in Argentina were the easiest I had ever been through. Once through customs we were taken to claim our baggage and then “herded like cats…” as I heard it put, to meet our families. Feeling like I was in a sauna with my Rotary jacket on I slipped it off and threw it over my bag I was carrying. And of course, with my great luck I was not met by my family, no, but my exchange counselor and most of the people in charge of the exchange program in Argentina, the ones who told us to wear our jackets. You just have to love first impressions.

Anyhow, I was taken to meet my first exchange family and in the process also got to meet my second family and the student staying with them from Belgium. Once I had slowed down and dropped my stuff in my room I realized just how tired I was. I had been up for approximately 24 hours. I was just a little tired. I spent my first three days in Argentina just adjusting, and letting it sink in where I was and for how long. It rained for the first few days but I was fine with that because the rain calmed me and I just regained energy from the trip. My family are excellent cooks and are very warm and caring people.

My first day of school was very exciting. The school itself is very large and there are over three thousand students. Many of the students in the class spoke understandable English and I realized then how lazy Americans really are that we only know English and that is it. I also found that some people here speak better English than people in the United states. So sad. It made it very easy to make friends, but the subjects here are extremely difficult for me. I am loving it here, with its new foods, crazy drivers, warm people, awesome architecture, and the new lifestyle I am living. A month has already gone by and I found myself saying, wow, where did all that time go. I will have to make the most of what time I do have left.

From Argentina with love.

Christian

November 15 Journal

Hey guys,

I am now closing on my third month in Argentina and although communication is still somewhat stressed sometimes, things are good. Right now I am feeling very good about my surroundings and the good group of friends that I am making at school. Luckily I haven’t been really sick like some exchange students get when they travel but I do have some bad allergies here, but it is a small price to pay for such an adventure.

WEATHER: Ok, so the weather here is really weird. When I arrived in Buenos Aires it was somewhat chilly and from then alternated between chilly and downright cold with some days of nice weather thrown in just for kicks. Now as I am writing it has been quite hot and and my school uniform which consists of sweatpants and a shirt that is literally made out of the roughest fabric they could find is not the most comfortable thing to sit in when the class has no air conditioning. Ahhhh, one thing I miss more than ever, the Floridians’ over use of air conditioning. Although is is hot right now, I am told it gets hotter in the months of January and February… oh great. But that is ok because I am headed to the beach with one of my best friends here and his family rented a house for a few weeks. Rock on.

SCHOOL: The schools here are very relaxed and the teachers and the kids converse on the same level when not in class. Although I heard the Latin culture is somewhat lazy and have been seeing a little of it myself, they have really really hard subjects in school. All of the classes are more advanced than in the states and I am definitely lost even when I can slightly understand the teacher. The kids in the school are great. Everyone is nice and many of my classmates are helping me with leaning phrases and words. Even though some of the things might be inappropriate, they think it is hilarious to have the foreign kid say things he has no idea what they mean, I am still learning nonetheless everyday. All of the classes are really kicking my butt, trigonometry, chemistry, biology, and physics. All things that I have never seen before or don’t remember how to do, but the English classes…. I got those covered. =) The English classes here show me how much you miss from not learning a language where it is spoken. It is very interesting for me also because I have to listen hard to the accent that is Argentinian and British mixed because they learn British style English. The school is gigantic and everyone is relaxed. On hot afternoons all the students go into the courtyard and find any shade and just lay around talking and enjoying the outdoors and good company. It is really a nice change compared to the fast paced schools of the United States.

ARGENTINIAN NEWS: You may have seen some glimpses of Argentina. Luckily my part of town is really safe. Here is a briefing of what has happened in the past month in Argentina. In the middle of October there were elections to choose the new senator. For the first time in Argentina a woman was elected. There was very mixed reactions to this, and resulted in some protests. Here is it obligatory to vote. Only if you are disabled or too far away from the voting stations are you excused. The penalty if you do not vote is you are not allowed to leave the country and have to pay a fine of 1 peso. Kind of a strange penalty but it works. A couple days later the trains and subways went on strike which resulting in rioting and a train catching on fire. They do not know if it was on purpose or not. The week after a huge shopping mall right near my house caught on fire, there was over 20 fire trucks from all over Buenos Aires. Then came the biggest news. The meeting of the Americas. 34 of the leaders of the countries in South and North America, except Cuba came and had a meeting in Mar del Plata. Which is 2 hours from my house. Huge riots erupted all over Buenos Aires protesting the arrival of Bush . Fires and bombs were set and many injuries happened. Although all this happened in Buenos Aires, I saw nothing of it except on the news.

THE TRIP: So as I mentioned above I am going on a trip to the south of Argentina. I am going with 25 other exchange students. This will be really awesome because in my district there are only 10 exchange students, and most of them live at least an hour away. We are visiting the provinces La Pampa, Neuquen, Rio Negro, Chubut, Santa Cruz, and Tierra del Fuego. The last province Tierra del Fuego is known as the end of the world, with breathtaking views of glaciers, and penguins too! We are also doing activities like whale watching, hiking, visiting lakes, and much much more. We are going for something like 20 days and every day is jammed packed with activities. I’ll try to smuggle back a penguin for anyone that wants one. HAHAHAH (just kidding Al, I promise I wont get arrested for smuggling illegal birds)

HOLIDAYS: What to say about holidays? Holidays here are really well remembered. Argentinians love a good time and will never forget a time when they can have one. Birthdays are a huge thing and there is a pattern that is always followed. Don’t ask me why, I am still trying to figure it out myself. The girls bring the cake and the boys bring something to drink. Always. Makes it easy that way to remember. Halloween here is not celebrated, much. I say this because no one decorates for it and only three people came by dressed up. Anyways, every other holiday is celebrated with an asado, or a barbecue.

FOOD: My favorite part. as mentioned above most people have asados, all the time, which are barbecues, but these are no ordinary barbecues. They cook almost every part of the cow. Including several of the inner parts. Although slightly disgusting to think about, just don’t ask and everything tastes fine. Another part of the food here is lack of seasoning. They do not season any of the meat. They say that they wish to taste only the flavor of the meat and not the spices. The only spice used in abundance here is salt. My dad would love this country. As he says, “if it isn’t liquid or chocolate, it needs salt.” A phrase heartily upheld by the Argentinians. Fresh bread, vegetables, and fruit are also a large part of the diet. I found out the fruit was very fresh because it goes bad after a week or week and a half instead of the fruit in the states that stays fresh for like what.. three weeks. The fresh bread is great and when ever I am missing home I go downstairs and break out the secret stash of peanut butter. Yeah for peanut butter. Although I have found dulce de leche which is addictive in its own way and when on a kind of Argentinian cookie called an alfojor, it is to die for. I have liked every part of the food I have tried here except one. It is a sausage called morcella. It is made with the blood of the cow. It has a very interesting taste and a very odd texture that is disgusting to the touch. I can predict now that I will most likely come home with the exchange student fifteen pounds and a craving for dulce de leche and alfojores.

OTHER: My Spanish has improved so much since I arrived it is absolutely astounding. I am learning words everyday and new things also. I have been out to see the night life and dance the entire night away and then gone to school the next day. Fun stuff. I’m definitely going to miss how alive and booming this city is when I am gone, but I can’t think of that right now. I am going to have to soak up as much as I can and live my time to the fullest. I can’t think why anyone would not want to be an exchange student.

From Argentina with love.

Besos

Christian

December 18 Journal

Hey everyone, OK I have heard the expression that time flies and that it goes faster the older you get but this year is INSANE. Four months have gone by and it feels like its been one… or scratch that I have lost all sense of time. All I know is that I have seven more months to do everything that I want to do. Achievable. I hope. But if I don’t make it, maybe just maybe I will have to come back and visit. Hehehe.

I have just returned from the Rotary trip to the south of Argentina. WOW it was crazy. There is every type of land formation you could ever want in Argentina, well at least to me. There are the plains of Wyoming and the mountains like The Rockies and then again aren’t they part of The Rockies, well anyway they were beautiful. There are gigantic lakes of emerald and wonderful waterfalls in every national park. I have to say that I think we saw every national park in the south of Argentina. After a while they all look the same though, but that’s after about the fifth one. But I am not complaining. There were twenty two of us on the trip so it was quite diverse. Many of the students were from the states. A lot from New York and Minnesota. I have no idea why. But they were all cool and there were four people who spoke German so they spoke German almost the entire trip and anyone that was paying attention picked up on some of the words… even if they were the bad ones. We also had people from Belgium, France, a Swiss, a CRAZY Dane, a Hungarian, and a Austrian.

The trip itself was very tiring since we had to cover three thousand kilometers in twenty days. This meant several days were spent entirely on the bus. We only got grumpy when all of our ipods and cd players ran out of batteries. Otherwise we were always in a fairly good mood except on the mornings that we had to wake up at six to the sound of CHICOS, CHICOS! Those two words struck irritation into all of our hearts when we heard it… unless we were making fun of it. The trip traveled down the Atlantic coast, not right on the coast but sometimes we did catch glimpses of it, and traveled down to a place called Tierra del Fuego. We did stop in other little towns along the way to get there but they are not super important so I won’t bore you. But there was one town that we were right on this lake/port thing and all the boys and some of the girls went swimming. Really cold but super fun. Anyways Tierra del Fuego is part of Argentina but you have to pass through Chile to get there unless you fly. Yeah!!! Now I can say I have been to Chile and its stamped in my passport. Yeah!!!

Sorry. Once you pass through several hours of what seems to be desert and wasteland you come to the southern part of the area and it is really quite nice. Ushuaia is the southern most city in the word and is really a nice little town. A little chilly for flip flops which were quickly changed out for closed toed shoes. HEHE. Many of the students went around and bought things in the town and the Crazy Dane as before mentioned bought a cowboy hat. We all though this was stupid at first but it was really cool and everyone came to love the hat and girls were always wanted a picture with the hat. SWEET. Well we only were staying for a day so that night we decided to see what the night life was like at the bottom of the world. We paid our entrance fee and soon found out that the exchange students were the party on the bottom of the world. We stayed out until we had to leave because our bus was going to leave without us. In the south there we got to stop and walk on a glacier and drink glacier water and eat Argentinian candy on top of the glacier.

On the way back north we stopped at a lot of national parks but a few were very cool because one was by what seemed like a jump off point for tourist hikers and mountain bikers. There we had some great fun. We hiked three kilometers into the national park/tourism thingy-ma-bob and stopped at a waterfall for lunch and spent the entire day there just sun bathing and having fun. The water fall was about thirty to forty feet tall and me and one other guy named Joe from Minnesota (amateur photographer) went to the top of the waterfall and got great pictures and found a little secluded spot that had its own private waterfall and a pool area. Later that day some of us just laid out and looked at the stars because they were so clear. Another major town we stopped at was Bariloche. Bariloche is the party capital of Argentina. Although of this fact we decided to forgo the partying because it was fifty pesos to get into the club and we didn’t feel like walking twenty three kilometers each way. Because the last few days left us with very little to do. In one small town four of us dyed our hair. I am now officially a black haired boy. As the trip came to a close and we were on the bus for the last night, Argentina granted us with a beautiful sunset. That morning as we rolled into Buenos Aires, we were all destroyed but had so much fun that we didn’t care at all. We all said our goodbyes and hoped that we would see each other again on the trip to the north. Now I am feeling free and having a great time because I am on summer vacation and about to go to the beach. yeah!!!! I hope you all enjoyed my rendition of the trip but I know that you will never know the true amount of fun unless you experience it for yourself.

With love from Argentina.

Christian

February 11 Journal

All I can say right now is “wow I am really tired”. I have just returned from the craziest month of my life. For the past month I have been chilling on the beach and having fun during the night nonstop for the past thirty or so days. Alright now that you know why I am tired I will tell you what happened during that crazy month.

To begin, Pinamar is one of the best beaches in Argentina so I was extremely fortunate to be invited by a friend to go and stay at a house they had rented near the beach. We left on the 29 of December so we could make it for new years. For some in the states twelve pm is late and they stay up until midnight like twice a year, well here if you even made the suggestion of going to bed at midnight they would seriously check to see if you are ok. Normal curfew for kids around here is about thee or four in the morning. In other words the new years dinner lasted until midnight and everyone was having a good time. If there is one thing Argentinians can do, it is eat. It is absolutely incredible how much the people each here and then most of them are in good shape.

Anyways the dinner was asado or barbecue.  The asado is almost a reverent ceremony but with the drinking of lots of beer and good good company.  The meal consists of several different courses and different types of meat.  First there is a sausage called choriso and is almost always with bread, and then it is called a churipan. Really good and only the beginning.  Although the meat here is only seasoned with salt I find that I enjoy it as much as seasoned meat.  Along with the choriso is salads of lettuce and potato and eggs.  The next course is several different types of meat from different parts of the cow.  Such places as the neck, intestines, and other places I didn’t ask.  The next course is meat from the ribs and pork.  And the last course to come in is the regular cow meat cooked the slowest so it is the most tender.  When the cook walks into the room with the last part of the meal everyone claps and cheers and praises the cooking.  After everyone has had their fill of meat and the chatter starts to build the plates are cleared away and ice cream is brought out.  That is the overview of an asado.  In some families there is one every week and in others they have one only once a month.  But every one follows this pattern whether big or small.        

After the magnificent meal all the kids go into town to have some fun.  Pinamar is relatively small so it is a lot of people is a very small area.  A very common and favorite game of the kids here is metagol or table soccer.  It is very easy to meet lots of people because if you know one person they know five more and those people all have friends and so on and so forth.  I was amazed at how well I could remember the names now.  The names here are all different so I couldn’t remember the names to save my life but I started to remember all the names.  Yippy.  After about a week of having fun and getting to know people the next big thing was The Wailers concert.  For those that don’t know who The Wailers are, they are the band that performed with Bob Marley when he was singing.  And the coolest thing was that the concert was free. 

After the concert we were all starving from dancing to reggae for several hours so we went to a place called Pancho Pueblo.  The name means pretty much “hotdog town” but these are not your normal hotdogs.  nooooo.  These are foot long hotdogs with with ham and cheese melted on the top and then two sauces of different kinds such as spicy, four cheese, and things of this nature with little crunchy potato fries on top.  One thing I have to complain about here is the french fries.  They are more like potato slivers.  In other words the panchos are awesome.  Every morning around four we would eat one.  I am addicted. 

The next really nice thing was on the beach when they had a bikini fashion show and some of Argentina’s biggest models were there.  I can say only one word.  GORGEOUS!  I love it here.  Just about the only advertisements here is beautiful women.  For everything, drinks, drugs (legal ones), clubs, beaches, and clothes. 

The last week was the best and by this time I was well tanned also after being on the beach for the minimum of four hours a day.  I went out twice to party and had a great time.  The first time we started the day by playing pool and then went to a little bar/club.  The dance floor was small but there was a lot of people on the floor and a really good DJ.  The second time I went out was the last night I was in Pinamar.  We left for a place called Ku.  One of the biggest night clubs I had ever seen.  It was so big it needed three entrances.  The main building was two floors and then it had several smaller building surrounding it.  There were rooms for every type of music you could want.  There was the techno room, my personal favorite,  the rap and hip hop room, thecumbia room,  kind of like Argentina rap, and then several areas of normal all around mixes.  It was really nice – if you didn’t like the music, change the room. We entered around two and watched the sunrise from the back of Ku over the ocean.  A real sight.  To accompany the sunrise was another fashion show. 

Around six or so we left to go home and get some rest and then the next day we left for Buenos Aires and back to normality again. Well almost.  When I got back we realized that the family that was my next family was in Brazil and will be there for the next two weeks.  So maybe normality isn’t the word I want to use.   I will never forget my month in Pinamar.  I still can’t wait to see what comes next in an adventure filled with surprises of every shape and form. 

With love from Argentina.

Christian

March 14 Journal

Hola muchachas y muchachos,

Wow things are really starting to speed up or slow down. I have no idea which but I do know that I have lost all track of time. I have also lost all of my spelling abilities in English. fun huh. That will not be fun jumping right back into school when I get back. Alright but where to start with my story. There are so many stories and side stories and I want to tell them all but then I think I would definitely win the prize as longest journal ever. As the life of a the normal exchange students goes, nothing is ever easy except in rare occasions and then usually someone is messing with me. But anyway I can take and keep on ticking.

When I returned from the beach I was welcomed with the news “oh yeah, your host family is in Brazil for another two weeks.” At that moment I was having pictures of me sleeping on the street. But that has never happened to an exchange student before so I quickly dismissed the thought and went on to think about where I was headed to next. To my surprise I was headed to the house of my club’s president. His family warmly welcomed me and I felt like one of the family in no time. But when two weeks were up I was headed to my next family and spent a month there (I don’t know why) and then I was switched again to a family that is great. But I was rather surprised when I walked into my new room and it was pink. Not just pink but TWO different shades of pink. Their daughter Dana is in Jacksonville right now and to tell the truth I am a little jealous. I really miss my big semi boring city for some reason. Maybe it’s the beach.

The last few weeks for me have really been busy. I had my birthday for which I was surprised with trip to a theme park for a day with several of the exchange students here and my host brother. Lots of fun and there was this thing that they towed you up about twenty stories and I was strapped into a harness with Oliver the student from Switzerland and then they proceeded to drop us into a huge parabolic swing. It was wildly fun but extremely hot. Surprisingly I don’t miss air conditioning a lot and I am most likely going to freeze my butt off when I get back though. Exactly eight days later one of my good friends here had his birthday and we partied and had… you guessed it. An asado. This was his 17th birthday which is pretty big here because here it means you can drive. It’s like our 16th birthday. After that I had the good luck of the exchange student with me and I got tickets for a show of Argentinian history. All of the show involved horses and some form of Argentinian cowboys. A very good show and a quick history lesson for me. hehehe.

I am starting my second week of school this week and the past weekend was I think the busiest weekend of my entire life or maybe not the busiest but definitely the most tiring. On Saturday I went walking around the capital trying to see everything I could see in the tourist aspect of the city. It’s like trying to see all the things in Washington D.C. – it’s not possible. I have to say since I haven’t seen Washington or Europe, Buenos Aires has awesome architecture. I spent seven hours walking around the capital and when me and my friend decided to head back we both fell asleep on the train. Not the most safe thing to do but we were exhausted. But that didn’t even finish my day at all. My day was not going to end until six thirty in the morning. After I got home I got cleaned up, said adios to my host parents again, and I was off for an asado (barbecue) with my friends. An asado here always includes meat, music, and friends, lots of them. And after that you can do whatever you want. During the party I was invited to a party and of course I want to go party with you guys. Well, lucky for me that I was a foreigner because otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get past the door. There were so many people they had bouncers at the gates. Once inside it is absolutely incredible how fast an accent can make you friends. Soon I was surrounded by a group of people all asking me questions and things like that. The party wrapped up around six and I caught a cab back to my house. Around three the next day my host mom woke me up and I sleepily ate my food and then took a shower and I was much better and then the entire family went to a place called Palermo. A place full of culture and noise of Buenos Aires. During the weekends there is a market of sorts like a old medieval town or something with lots of people and lots of little tents with vendors calling out to people to buy their wares and other people performing for money and things that are all colorful and alive.

I hope that one day everyone can just experience a little piece of a different culture if not for a year at least for a day. Because it needs only a day to change your view.

Lots of love to all. Un beso.

Christian

May 19 Journal

Hey everyone, the last month or two or however long I have been off the grid for have been absolutely amazing. All the exchange students know exactly what I am talking about when I say that we have really come to be a part of our country and love and enjoy it. I am apologizing in advance if my English is somewhat unsatisfactory. I guess that means I have really become immersed when your mother tongue is horrible and it’s easier to understand things in Spanish.

I know that I don’t want to leave but I kind of have to when my visa expires and governments don’t really like illegal aliens in their country no matter how laid back the country is. It’s amazing how much I have changed in the last months here. I don’t know exactly when or how I changed but I can tell there is a definite change in me. I have been trying to do as many things in the wonderful city of Buenos Aires as possible in the short time I have left. Right now I have been visiting the free jazz festival that is being held right now all over the city. I have never visited a city like Buenos Aires and I hope to visit more but BA will always have a special place in my heart forever.

Over the past two months I have seen ever more of Argentina in the trip to the north with the some really cool exchange students but not as cool as the group from Jax. While the trip on the bus was a little uncomfortable it was unbelievably fun with the crazy Germans and the one and only Swiss. I will remember them forever and always have fond memories of getting into trouble but never really because we were just too darn cute and charming. As I said I spent most of my time with the Germans and the Swiss who also spoke German so my German has also improved incredible. hehe. In every place we visited we tried to do something out of the ordinary, not on purpose, but because it was something to do so that we would remember the trip even better. We did things like hiking in our boxers or trying to always find the highest place and get to the top and back down before we had to go. It was things like that that I will always remember about this trip. Gracias Matias, Philip, y Oliver por las memorias. Some of the places we travel to we places like Jujuy, Tilcara, Salta, Mendoza, and Tucuman. Very nice all of them but a little dry for me. Almost all of those places are high altitude desert so my lips died on that trip.

We visited the Waterfalls of Iguazu or however you spell it I forgot. INCREDIBLE!!!!! If you ever have the chance to go there DO NOT turn it down. There are also a ton of butterflies and tons of wildlife. Its just too bad that I think I got water in my camera from the falls but its all right, they were amazing. We also went to several restaurants that had special people come in for us and dance and play music and we got to dance and have a grand time. We also visited some ruins that were really neat and reminded me of a series that I read when I was little that the castle was made of all red stone just like the ruin we went to. I have a ton of pictures despite the fact that my camera is a piece of crap and always can’t focus or doesn’t have batteries. Well the last one is partly my fault but I like to blame it on the camera anyways cause it can’t fight back.

One of my most vivid memories is the last night on the bus when all of us were on the bus singing and dancing and talking and enjoying maybe the last time we would ever be together again. It was in that moment the national anthem of Argentina came on because it was one on of the cds and all of us started singing at the top of our lungs the national anthem of Argentina. when it finished we then proceeded to sing the national anthem of every country represented there. Canada, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, and the United States. After all the anthems we all cheered and went immediately back to singing and having a jolly old time. I have now traveled this country from top to bottom and there really is no other country like it in the word. It’s beautiful. I can’t believe it!

My host family is incredible. I am saddened that I will have to leave and finish my year in another house but I guess that Dana, their daughter will want her room back. Wow that’s right my year is almost over. I only have two months left. But in the same instant I am happy to see my friends again but like when I left I have to leave the friends I have made here and there isn’t the known chance that I will see them again because I don’t know when I will return again and that saddens me but I know that every student in another country will be doing the same so I must go on and look to the future that I will see them again one day, or just save my money and come back next year.

And recently I have started taking salsa classes in my neighborhood. The teacher is very nice and it’s very informal and there are only a few people per class so every class is very personal and fun. I have never taken a dance class before but it is really fun and now I can impress the ladies. heheh…. yeah anyways.

For the past months we had nice weather. Kind of a fall in the north kind of weather but now it’s bitter cold. This morning it was 4 degrees Celsius. For those of you that don’t know I am in my house with a sweater and a scarf and sweat pants. I have also bought many clothes here and I looked at myself one day and I realized that everything I was wearing I had bought here in Argentina. I have also been looking for clothes for Florida when I go back because the clothes here are much cheaper. Looking for clothes for summer when it’s almost winter here doesn’t work. I ask “do you have t shirts?” it’s kind of a rhetorical question because I know the answer already.

In the end of it all I have become a different person, hopefully one that you will all like but a different person and I hope to surprise you all. Love from the bottom half of the globe. To the exchange students can’t wait to see you all. See you in July.

Christian

July 6 “Pre-Departure” Journal

“Oh! Do not attack me with your watch! A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.”  — Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

44 days. 44 days is all that is left before I leave for Ecuador on Aug. 19th. It seems as though the day that I will say goodbye to my life here will never come. I want to be on the plane now, waving to the life I once knew. But at the same time, I still have so much to do before I depart. I’ve made the list of things yet to be done a thousand times by now, making sure that I am not forgetting anything, and my lists grow endlessly.

44 days seems like an eternity . . . until I think of everything I have to do. I finally have my paperwork together, and sometime in the next couple weeks I’ll be making the trip to Miami to meet with the consulate from Ecuador in order to get my Visa. My birthday will be here on the 14th, and the welcome home dinner is on the 21st. Right after that I’ll be flying up to Wisconsin to say goodbye to my grandparents and all my relatives. By the time I get back I will have only 18 days to pack, prepare and say goodbye to all my friends and family in Florida….

It’s crazy to think that all this began when Ken Weiss gave a presentation at my high school. I knew that I would be graduating soon, and that I would do something after high school, but I had never been quite able to put my finger on what. From the day that Ken gave his presentation, I knew that this program was meant for me, and that I was meant for this program. And, to my surprise, my mom supported me 100%.

The application process and the interviews were grueling, and for a brief period I doubted that anybody had made it through . . . maybe they just weren’t going to send anybody this year. And then my acceptance letter came. I had been selected, and I was going to my first choice country: Ecuador! Twenty of us made it out of who knows how many applicants, and I feel honored to be given this opportunity. Since that day in January, it’s been a whirlwind of orientation weekends, frustrating activities, jumbled languages, and new friends.

My graduation came and went and only one thing has been on my mind. Ecuador. I have already come to have an appreciation for Ecuador. I have talked to exchange students who’ve already gone and returned, people who live there, and members of my community who were raised there. I’ve spent countless hours reading and learning about Ecuador. It seems as though the travel bug has bitten me, and I haven’t even left yet. . .

My home in Ecuador will be quite different from my home here. I am a Florida girl born and raised. I only own two pairs of non-flip-flop shoes (apparently they don’t wear flip-flops in the Andes), and I own two light-weight jackets. I have no sweaters, no long sleeve shirts, nothing that would even protect me from a slight chill (shopping is a big part of my list). I have never seen mountains. There aren’t even hills where I live. I never thought that out of all the things that I will experience during my exchange year, I am most excited by the fact that all of my new memories will be created in front of a dramatic backdrop of mountains and volcanoes.

44 days. 44 days. And tomorrow it will only be 43. As a whole it seems so long, but as each day passes, I have no sound comprehension of time.

And to be honest, I’m scared.

How do you prepare yourself mentally for something of which you have no idea what to expect? My mom acts as though I’m never leaving, and my friends act as though I’m already gone. I find myself taking on household projects that have no significance. I’ve re-painted my bathroom twice. I’ve hung shelves, re-arranged, re-modeled, and re-decorated. It’s as though part of me won’t be ready to accept that I’m leaving until once I’m already gone.

A lot has changed between my family and I, and the same with my friends and I. So as I prepare to leave, I am leaving so much more behind than my country. I am leaving any sense of reality as I know it, I am leaving friendships that I thought would last forever, and I am leaving the remnants of my family behind. So I will be starting a new life twice, once in Ecuador upon my arrival and the other in my return to my home country. It is a very sad feeling knowing that I am not saying goodbye for only a year, but rather for a lifetime…

MOST IMPORTANTLY: I need to take the opportunity to thank Al and everybody involved in this program. It is an amazingthing to be able to experience, and without their hard work and dedication it wouldn’t be possible. They truly are changing the world one exchange at a time. Thank you!!

I also want to thank my Aunt Chris and Uncle Kerry. They have supported me from day 1, and without their continual encouragement and love, I would not be preparing to make a journey that will change my life. I love you both very much, and am eternally grateful for all you’ve done for me.

September 4 Journal

Hola to all. Things here in Latacunga are simply amazing. I arrived late on Friday night, Aug 19th, and my host family was waiting with flowers and balloons. The flight from Miami to Quito was relatively easy, and all of us exchangers stuck together….but one thing made a lasting impression on me. While passing through customs, we had to wait in line to hand our documents over to the customs agent. There was a quaint little sign asking us to please wait behind the line. And, consequently, there was a bright yellow line painted on the floor….and it dawned upon some of us that crossing that line meant crossing into a world completely and totally different and unfamiliar to us. The sign might have well said “No english beyond this point´´ Of course, this was expected, but to have such a concrete manifestation of such an abstract idea blew my mind…

It was a two hour drive from Quito to Latacunga, and the view was amazing. I’m from Florida, where everything is flat, flat, and more flat. I was awed to see lights shining from all levels of the horizon. It looked like a painting. Luckily, I understood everything that was said to me, so it wasn’t a quiet or awkward ride.

I got the grand tour of the house upon arrival, and man o man, it’s huge. I got lost a little at first, as there are many different levels. I have my own bedroom and I share a bathroom with my sister, Sophia (14 – but her birthday is July 4th, how cool is that?). My host brother, Eduardo, or Llallo as we call him, is adorable. The entire family likes sports a lot, so I do a lot of that. There’s a game room in the house that has a pool table, ping pong table, poker table, and a mini gym. My backyard is a tennis court. The view from my balcony is amazing. Silhouettes of mountains grace every horizon. My host mom and dad are very nice, and they do everything they can to make me feel at home. The maid is also very nice, and helps me to understand how to use things. It’s cold, a little colder than I expected, but the weather is insane. It’s hot, it’s cold, it’s windy, it’s raining, it’s sunny, it’s everything at once and nothing at all. It’s very hard to dress for. But I love it all the same. At night, it can be deathly cold, and no central heating. My parents here bought me a space heater, bless their hearts.

Ecuador is so…honest. It doesn’t try to hide its problems like the states do. You see poverty here, you see the people on the streets and the little huts tucked here and there in the foothills. And it’s beautiful. It’s not good or bad, it’s just the way things are.

And it’s the little things that I have fallen in love with…

…like how I know I’m so much closer to the sky (2800 meters closer), but it still seems so much farther away. Though at times, I swear if I was a little taller, I could touch the clouds. The stars are infinite. At night I have a hard time discerning where the streetlights in the mountains end and where the sky and stars begin. Days pass by in perfect increments of time. Twelve hours of illuminating daylight, and twelve hours of impenetrable darkness.

…like how people here honk at everything. They honk to say hello, goodbye, how have you been? They honk to say excuse me, they honk when they pass, they honk when being passed. They honk at literally everything. I was very confused at first, coming from a country where you usually only honk out of anger. I appreciate it now. People here drive, for the most part, insanely. No one wears seatbelts, which never ceases to amaze me. The little white lines mean nothing. Oncoming traffic means nothing. Passing is a very common occurrence, often five cars passing at a time. It resembles a game of leap frog. A lot of the time is spent going down one way roads the wrong way, or passing in the left hand lane, while other traffic is passing in the right hand lane. It seems very dangerous, but I have yet to see a wreck or an angry driver.

…like how everything is so cheap. Things are a fourth or a fifth of the prices that I am used to paying. Ice cream cones, 30¢, taxi rides to anywhere in the city, $1. I get $55 from Rotary every month, and I have a feeling that it will be more than plenty.

…like how the graffiti isn’t just mindless tagging or the rivalry among gangs. It’s meaningful, often poetic. Like, “there is no more meaningful struggle of life than the struggle of life”, “what is love if not given truly”, or my favorite so far “Ecuador is, for better or for worse”

…like how there are signs along the roadway that state the mission of the national police “educating to save lives”, “working for an accident free Ecuador” and “Here for your protection”. And it’s true. There are armed guards at many places in the city, and you get the feeling that they really are there for your protection, unlike the soldiers in the US who seem intimidating with their guns. One even tipped off my mom the other day that a traffic officer was issuing tickets for people illegally parked…

…it’s the beautiful statues that are at many intersections. Mama Negra, and others. I don’t know the significance of all of them, but they are beautiful pieces of art. I sometimes forget that this is the 3rd poorest country in the western hemisphere….

I have already been to a Rotary meeting here, and it’s a lot different than my club in Florida. Here they meet at night, for one, and they always meet in the house of a Rotarian. My first host father was the president for the past two years, and now is the vice president. One uncle is the chairman, Al’s counterpart, and another is the treasurer. I really like the Rotarians, they are all very sweet people, and most are very young. And yes, Florence, I did meet Carlos Donoso, and he says hi. Carlos Donoso embodies all of what Rotary is trying to accomplish. He really struck me as an amazing person, and was very easy to talk to, in Spanish of course.

I keep English to an absolute minimum here. No one in my family speaks English, but my brother knows random phrases (mostly bad – or just plain awkward) that he blurts out over lunch. A couple people in the city speak to me in English, but I always answer back in Spanish until they get the hint. I understand everything said to me as long as its not said super fast, which at times kills me. I can answer back, but it’s a lot harder. I talk as often as possible, and I can usually get my meaning across. My cousin Sebastian is very sweet in the sense that he loves explaining things to me and asking questions. He talks slowly, so I love him all the more.

School, which starts in two days, will be very different. It starts at 7, and for me ends at five till 3. It’s a Catholic school. The uniform is very much so that of a Catholic school girl. Black shoes, blue knee socks, blue pleated skirt, baby blue sweater. And on Tuesdays and Thursdays, white tennis shoes, aqua track paints, white tee shirt, and aqua track jacket. I’ll be studying the equivalent of twelfth grade general studies. I’m sad that I won’t be taking chemistry, but I know that I will learn a lot more of the language this way.

(Believe it or not, I’m trying to keep this short, but I know that I am going to be so busy for the next month or two, so I might as well write a lot now)

I’ve already met one of my classmates, Mauricio. He’s a “super-chevere´´ guy, and has helped me a lot so far. He has taught me a lot of Quechua words (the indigenous language), and when I found out that my Grandma back home was in the hospital, he forced me to watch Camaramania (the Ecuadorian equivalent of America’s Funniest Home Videos) in order to lift my spirits.

Also, there’s a member of Rotex that lives just a couple a streets away. Her name is Belén, and I really appreciate all that she does for me. If I’m having a problem or if I just need someone to talk to, I know that she’ll be there for me. It’s all about resources.

There are two other exchange students here in my city, and both will go to my school. The first, Ashley (16) is from Reading, PA. She’s crazy in the sense that she has a ton of energy, but we get along really well. The other, Eric (16) is from Gibson, Canada. Need I say more? -just kidding. He’s into a lot of outdoor sports, so hopefully we’ll all be able to climb Mt Cotopaxi (world’s highest active volcano). Ashley is going to be in the grade below me, but Eric will be in the same grade. Neither spoke nor understood Spanish all that well upon arrival, but both are learning very very quickly. And I think that it’s safe to say that we have all lost at least part of our English (I would be screwed without spellchecker and dictionary) It’s like that guy between time zones, I’m out of language. I speak neither Spanish nor English without pause and hesitation.

The food is amazing. I even like the things that I didn’t like to eat back home (clams and shrimp). Breakfast usually consists of hot milk or coffee and bread. Lunch is the main meal, and is usually eaten anywhere between 2 and three. It always starts with soup of some kind. The second course is meat, rice, and usually a potato dish. Very few vegetables are eaten here. For desert, fruit or cake. Lunch is always served wish fresh juice. Our maid is an amazing cook, and I really want to learn how to prepare a lot of the dishes. Dinner is small, and eaten late (8 or 9) It’s usually bread, if anything. The other night, I had a hamburger from a street vendor. It seriously was the best hamburger that I have ever had. No joke. Every house has their own version of ají, a tomato based condiment that can be anywhere from mild to really freaking hot. It has onions, herbs, and other stuff in it. Every restaurant has it as well. I love it, the hotter the better. So far there has been only one dish that I haven’t liked. Animal skin done in a lovely peanut sauce. It was like rubber. No me gustó, no me gustó.

I’ve been to Quito and Ambato so far. I loved them both. I bought my first chimba in a mall in Quito. A chimba is a knock-off. Definitely bought an adidas jacket, except that the symbol is backwards and the stripes on the sleeves are too close together. Oh well. It’s warm. Quito is a huge freaking city, but I only spent a day there, so I’ll write more about it when I know more of it.

Today was a very exciting day for Ecuador. The soccer team of the country won today against Bolivia. The game took place in Bolivia, but seeing it on TV there seemed to be many more Ecuadorian fans in the stadium that those from Bolivia. There was a lot of celebration immediately following the game. Eric and I, along with many of my cousins and friends, drove through the streets honking (more than usual) at people wearing the yellow jerseys. There are actually caravans of people who do this and honk at other caravans. Everybody wore yellow and waved the Ecuadorian flag out of car windows. It was very interesting, and a lot of fun. Pictures soon, I promise.

I feel very much at home here. There are differences, and of course I miss the people back home. But this is my home, for the next year at least. It’s only been just over two weeks, but I no longer feel like a stranger. I still get stared at whenever I go anywhere, but I’ve even gotten accustomed to that. Time is flying. And all I can do is live every moment that I can.

Chao

Tajah

PS Love to my Mom, Aunt Chris, Uncle Kerry. Hugs, Kisses, and Best Wishes to Busha and Papa, and all my Wisconsin family. Congrats to Ryan and Jenny on their Marriage. Love to Einstein. Good luck to Sean and Allen with college. Love and everything else to the best friends a girl could have, Jarrod and Kanwal. Man, oh man, I miss you guys. Love to my exchange student homies half a world away. And love to anyone I forgot. Oh, and love to Al and all the rest of Rotary!!!!

PPS Thanks to my mom for letting me go, my aunt and uncle for making it possible, and Rotary for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime.

December 23 Journal

So yeah. You know. These are pretty much the only English phrases that I can still use correctly. Which I guess is alright, but when it comes to writing a LONG overdue Rotary journal, it just doesn’t seem sufficient. Actually, I had been debating when would be an appropriate time to write my second journal. Then, it happened. By some twist of fate, my maid made a very delicious lunch that consisted of barbecue ribs, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw. And for dessert, apple pie. It was the worst apple pie of my life, the crust had to be at least an inch thick…needless to say, I ate three slices…

…and with more determination than anyone has ever known, I sat down to write my journal. And that was two and a half months ago…

Busy is a word that you don’t fully understand the meaning of until you’ve been an exchange student. Or God, because I am positive they take the same amount of effort. There is always someone more to spend time with, something else to do, somewhere else to see. Sanity is an illusion. But this is a good thing. When you know your days are numbered, you tend to appreciate a full schedule.

So, here is where the apologies come in. This journal is about three months late, and I owe it to my fellow exchangers, my dear district 6970, and currently applying exchange students to keep them updated on my ever so interesting life south of the border (you know, the equator). Sorry guys, it will get better, I promise. Also, due to my lapse in writing, WAY too much stuff has happened to write about it all, so some things might be lost forever. Furthermore, my English is on a downhill slide. More like an avalanche, so this is actually being written with the aid of the kind university English students whose class I teach. Fun Fun. Sincerest apologies. Either way, here goes nothing…

TIME:
I have been in Ecuador four months. I have been in Ecuador four months. It still sounds weird to me, it doesn’t seem like four months have gone by. I have absolutely NO sense of time. Rotary ruined that one for me. All I know is that the days seem slow and the weeks seem like they are at hyper speed. One third of my exchange year is gone, and I can’t get it back. I cherish every day, and treat it as if were my last, because I know in just seven short months, it will be.

OTHER EXCHANGERS:
There are three Rotary exchangers here in my city. Me, Eric (Canada) and Ashley (Pennsylvania) There were about eight kids from AFS, but very sadly two decided to leave early. Vilde (Norway) and Joanie (California). They will be missed. All us Rotary inbounds are in the same school, along with an AFS-er from Germany, named Jessica. I love her to death. Same with Ash and Eric, we all get along really great, which makes it so much easier.

SCHOOL:
School started way back in September, and I am a proud student at a very prominent Catholic high school in my city. It’s got about a thousand students total, ranging from fourth to twelfth grade. I was in the social science track, but after a series of horrible events due to their inherent aptitude for delinquency, resulting in the erasure of our school motto, I switched to the chemistry track. I absolutely love my class mates, though I might just be one of the tallest girls. They are some of the sweetest people I have met. The teachers are good, when they some to class, which is I guess regularly compared to how it was in my previous course. If they don’t come, there is always soccer and volley to be played. I am still getting used to the pleated skirt and sweater, especially cuz it just doesn’t seem to keep me warm here in the Andes mountains. You know… it’s definitely a different experience, like in chemistry class when they shake acids using there hands to cover the opening of flasks, etc. I might just die in a freak accident, but they tell me it hasn’t happened yet and that I shouldn’t worry. Laugh out loud.

EDUCATION:
Very different from school, as it is practically non-existent in most of the schools here. It’s a different level than I am used to, and sometimes I have to force myself to understand that this country is in a very different economic position than I am used to… it’s a continuous struggle. I go to my classes, for the most part, but it’s really hard to apply myself in some classes that seem to me to be on a 7th grade level, especially when I have already graduated. But I do my best, and help out with other classes if nothing else…

ROTARY:
I know that I am not here to complain, I am here to observe and learn. But from my observations, I am left with nostalgia for how Rotary works back home. Even for the most urgent matters, the response is ‘don’t worry about it.’ Which has made legalizing our visas, paying for trips, pretty much everything and anything, about ten times more difficult than it should be. Monthly allowance is given, kind of. It’s never on time and you lose track of what month you’re getting it for. Here’s an example of the binds I have gotten in: The thing I was supposed to do within thirty days of my arrival was finally done in November, every deadline has been horribly missed, my chairman was the brother of my first host dad, the club was composed mostly of members of my first host family, and my counselor quit Rotary two months ago without telling me, and I still don’t have a replacement. I would give anything for an Ecuadorian version of Al Kalter. I miss the detailed planning, the care and consideration. Inbounds to 6970 have the good life.

ROTARY BINGO:
Very interesting event a couple months back. Exactly like it sounds, it was a bingo hosted by Rotary. I wound up dancing salsa with drunk Rotarians and swing with Ashley until six in the morning. But it’s made up for by the fact that I won a microwave. I know you’re jealous.

HOST FAMILY ISSUES: (host family number one)
I am always someone to tell the truth. If something is amazing, I say it’s amazing. If something is god-awful-horrible, unless you directly need to know, I will sugar-coat it ever so slightly and say that it and I have our differences, to save the face of the other party. With that being said, my first host family and I had some very very drastic differences in thinking, which led to a very severe clashing of personality, which led to very severe things to happen, which led to me not being the happiest camper for the first three months of my exchange. Which led to me requesting a change of host family back in October, and after two months of waiting, I have finally switched.

FAMILY NUMBER TWO:
As unhappy and as miserable as I was in my first host family is made up for by the family I am in now. Their last name is Paz (peace in Spanish), and I would not be lying if I said they are the most wonderful people in the world. I showed up the eighth of December with my two suitcases, a bag just for shoes, my backpack, and a microwave. I know I am a heavy packer, but it was ridiculous. This family accepted me into their house without even knowing my name or anything about me. Which automatically gives them five cool points. We had café shortly after I arrived. They bought me peanut butter, creamy (only us from Latacunga know what a treat it is). Another five points. My bed had a down comforter, meaning I didn’t die of cold the first night, ten more points. I got home from school my second day, my brothers had made me brownies. Ten thousand cool points. And it has been like that since the very first day.

My parents, Diego and Anita, are in a class all by themselves. They are some of the most cultured, most understanding, most compassionate people I have ever met. My two older brothers, both former exchange students, live and study in Honduras. But they are here on vacation. My sister, who is my age, lives and studies in Quito but is also here for the holidays. The entire family pretty much speaks English, which makes it easy, not because I speak English with them, but because I can ask them the most random words and they can tell me. We live on a farm, which is pretty cool. I drove a tractor, without crashing into anything, complete with the get up of a sombrero and overalls. It had to look hilarious. I also milked a cow. I help out with a lot of stuff, when I can, and I adore spending time with my brothers and dad. It’s different for me, because back home I didn’t have a father figure, and it’s so great to have one here. I get in dirt wars with my brothers, we play around a lot. My sister is such a sweetheart, so we get along really well too. I’ve taken a couple spills on the motorcycle, but nothing serious yet. I love them, and I really do feel like part of the family. I am happier than I have been in a very long while. This time of they year is supposedly the most difficult for exchange students due to the holidays etc. But it has wound up being the best. Words cannot express how at home I feel here. It sucks that I have to change again early January, but I already know the next family. They’re not Paz, but they are very nice, so I am sure I’ll be alright….

ROTARY TRIPS:
The first trip we had was to the coast and after about ten hours of traveling we finally got there. It was absolutely gorgeous, very different from Florida though. It was insane being with all 104 exchange students, from all around the world. We had a talent show, the Canadians sang anti American songs (very funny and well done), the Taiwanese kid did a rap, and us USA-ers did the hokey pokey. All fifty-something of us. It was a lot of fun. We didn’t do too much cultural stuff, but it was really nice spending time with everyone…

The second trip was about a week ago. It was really great. This time we went to the northern part of the country. We saw the churches in Quito, some awesome lakes, etc. We went to one city named Otovalo, which is the main tourist city, for good reason. In this city, the indigenous weavings and craftware are sold. In good faith I can say that us exchangers helped the economy of Ecuador in insane amounts. My favorite part of the trip was when we went to the equator itself. Of course I fell (I am famous for falling), but the interesting part was that water doesn’t swirl down a drain, it just drops straight down. Also, we are all very weak bastards on the equator. Here’s an example. Make your hand into the ok sign, and have someone try to pull apart your thumb and index finger. They can’t, can they? When you are standing right on the equator, they can with almost no effort. It is insane. It was a really fun trip, but it makes me sad to realize that the year is almost half over. The friendships with other exchangers are so strong it’s unbelievable. Even the annoying people you love more than life itself. It’s one of the beauties of the exchange life.

PRESIDENT:
So Nov 11th, the independence day of my city, Latacunga, wound up being a very interesting day. I’ll start from the beginning. After a huge parade, Ashley and I went back to my house to get ready for a session with her mom (kind of like deputy mayor but more important). In my hurry to get dressed, I accidentally decapitated a statue of the virgin Mary, shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I super glued it back together. We got dropped off a couple blocks from the Municipio, and we walked the rest on foot. We noticed two guards standing on the street, and as they always bother us, and as we were very well dressed, we took the very long way around them in order to avoid their harassment. We went way out of our way to do it, and they were ticked off, but we were very proud of ourselves, having avoided the unavoidable. So we kept walking, very smugly, very indescribably proud, and as soon as we turned the corner we found ourselves face to face with, oh I don’t know, about a hundred more armed guards. We froze, needless to say, but pushed our way through and entered the building. We were escorted up to the main room and seated. The presidential session soon began. Afterwards, we were ushered into a room by Ashley’s mom, and a couple seconds later, the president entered. I was introduced, and we proceeded to talk. He asked me where I was from, I said Florida, he asked what city, I said Jacksonville. He then asked, to my surprise how the Super Bowl went, and whether or not that little restaurant on such and such street was till open. It dawned on me, that I was talking to the President of the Republic of Ecuador, and he knew my city, furthermore, he knew it well, and named a really great restaurant. It was insane. I then ate hot wings with him, and had a coke. It was sheer insanity. Absolutely insane. And, his English is perfect. Whadya know. Here’s the great part. He is a Rotarian, and I definitely gave him a Rotary card and district 6970 pin. Beat that.

THANKSGIVING:
This is an interesting one. For school, Ashley and I did a Thanksgiving Day presentation that involved two very hilarious costumes of a Pilgrim and a Native American. And a skit, where Ashley rowed with a broom from the old world to the new world. It turned out quite nice, actually, and the school really enjoyed it. The problem was after the presentation, we had no clothes to change into to, and proceeded to walk through town in full costume. No taxis would dare pick us up. After breakfast, still in costume, we went to Eric’s house, changed, and headed to Salcedo, a town twenty minutes south of here. We volunteered at the orphanage there for a couple hours, and afterwards, as we couldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving due to above mentioned family differences, we went on an ice cream eating spree, which is what Salcedo is known for. Eric ate ten, Ashley and I ate nine each, at an average speed of one every ten minutes. It was good, until after the fourth one, when we started getting ice cream sick. I think I puked for about a week, and wound up having an intestinal infection. Fun Fun. Happy Thanksgiving!

CHRISTMAS:
Not only am I spending Christmas with an amazing family, my mom sent me my Christmas stocking and I also got a whole bunch of little presents from family and friends. Nothing makes an exchange students day more than a letter or package, so I’m high as a kite. Merry Christmas to everyone back home!

RESOLUTIONS:
I figure I should at least make some, or maybe just some tiny little goals for the new year:
– I will not pass up a single opportunity to try a new food or enjoy the amazing bread they have here
– I will not gain weight, I will not gain weight
– I will play soccer and dance salsa as often as possible
– I will not fall and injure my knee again
– I will not pass up these amazing prices
– I will not spend more money than necessary
– I will start writing more Rotary journals
– I will start writing more Rotary journals

REFLECTIONS AND HOME:
Home is still a really hard concept for me to deal with. I have only been here four months, and I already feel like I have been here all my life. There is the Floridian in me, the American in me that I know will always be there, but at the same time, there’s the Ecuadorian part of me that grows every time I wake up to this beautiful country. Before I came here, I had nightmares about leaving home, and I still do, but my concept of home has changed. This is my home now. The states will always be there, but when is going to be the next time I get to be here, like it is right now? I am so blessed to have this opportunity. I will know the Amazon rain forest and the Galapagos before my year is through. I know two languages (I would say at about the same level, if not better in Spanish than English). I dread the day that I leave, but I don’t waste time thinking about that now.

When people ask me where I am from, I no longer say that I’m from the states. Without hesitation, I reply ‘Latacunga’. They don’t always believe me, but for the most part they do. This is my country, my city. I know these people, I know these streets. I know the ins, the outs, the rhythm of life. Being adapted means the following:
– I no longer mistake the garbage truck music for the ice cream music back in Florida
– I know where the loose stones are in the main side walks, and no longer fall, and if I do, I know the appropriate swear words
– I have learned not to ask what I’m eating until well after. I have come to like snails, beetles, and cow intestine.
– I have my favorite restaurants, songs, dishes. I know what I like and what I am not so fond of.
– I have given up hope for real Columbian coffee and settled for Nescafe.
– I am no longer the first to show up at places, due to the famous Hora Ecuatoriana, I know to show up about an hour late for everything
– I have gotten used to street vendors and door to door salesman. It topped the cake when I saw a guy selling computer chairs door to door…
– I have learned to bargain EVERYTHING, and I am good at it. I will have problems when I get home, I can picture it now, ill be at a McDonalds drive through, arguing about the dollar menu.
– I am no longer terrified by the driving here. Its still insane, but I feel safe, and I no longer have the urge to wear a seat belt or hold on for dear life
– I have seen some insane protests, and I know how tear gas tastes and smells. It’s not fun
– I have had my share of sicknesses and trips to the doctor. And I have fallen in about every place imaginable.
– I have learned to deal with seeing incredibly poor people everywhere. It still breaks my heart, but I have accepted the fact that there is nothing I can do.
– I have eaten rice, every day, sometimes more than once a day, since august 19th, and there is no end in sight.
– I have gotten used to the fact that even though it’s really freaking cold, I will burn severely without sunscreen. I am used to freezing cold, rain, wind, horrible sun, and sometimes hail, all in one day. And, I have learned how to dress for it.
– The post office knows us, and we can all pick up each others mail.
– Ashley and I are experts at switching plates, bargaining prices, and achieving the impossible with our silly missions…
– I have given up with my name. Said Tajah, it is really close to talla, which means size. And said Ta-Ha, it means slice. I cannot win, and I realize this.
– I can roll my r’s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUTURE EXCHANGERS:
Man, has it been a year since I filled out that horrible horrible application? A year since that painful interview that reduced some to tears? Yes, yes it has. Here’s to the future outbounds of 6970. I wish you guys the best of luck, and I hope you brush up on the hokey pokey. You never know when you’ll need it. This will be the most amazing experience of your life, think hard about where you want to go and if you can handle the most blissful times of your life along with the most difficult and painful. A year without home is not easy, and an exchange year is not for everyone. But if you are brave, open minded, and ready to take a ride on an emotional rollercoaster, I look forward to seeing you all at the Welcome Home Dinner. Please feel free to email me or whatever, Al has my information.

SHOUTOUTS:
I want to give a shout out to my fellow exchangers from 6970, I hope you are all having a great year and I can’t wait to see you all in seven months or so. Especially Christian, because my English is so bad I wont be able to talk with anyone else.

Love to Eric and Ashley, adding sarcasm to the Spanish language one failed joke at a time. Love to my mom, I miss you so much, but you have always raised me to be independent, and you’ve done a hell of a job. To my family in Florida and Wisconsin, my cousin’s new wife, Jenni, and my other cousin’s new baby, Sam. Love to Chris and Kerry, my financial and emotional backbone, and a whole bunch of friends. Woo and Jarrod, you guys are always in my thoughts. Love to my amazing Rotary club back home, to 6970, and to Al Kalter, The Man (in both hemispheres).

January 26 Journal

PREWARNING: This is the most awkwardly flowing thing I have ever written. Chalk it up to the fact that it’s late, chalk it up to the fact that English has hit rock bottom and is digging, chalk it up to whichever reason suits you best, just please o please don’t blame me…

So here is to that resolution of mine, writing more Rotary journals. There is so much to update on, so much to write about, like recounting long gone histories that in actuality only occurred in the last month. But being on an exchange year completely distorts your perception of time, and therefore into the archives of jumbled memories I go.

When I last wrote I was still the adoring daughter of the Paz family, happy and in love with life in general, anticipating the holidays, Christmas, new years. And all was good.

Christmas came and went, with only a *touch* of homesickness. Christmas is pretty much celebrated the same here as there, the main difference being that the stress is placed on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day. Either way, I spent it surrounded by family, which consequently means friends, and I felt so much at home because they tried so hard to include me in everything, and make sure I had a great time, and I did. The hardest part was returning to the farm late on Christmas day and opening presents my mom and relatives had sent from home. It was almost as if seeing all the things they sent to me brought a part of them here, and I couldn’t tell if I was crying from happiness or sadness, either way my host family was great, and all was good.

New Year’s came, as it tends to do after Christmas, and once again, we grouped as a family in Quito. We bought crazy amounts of homemade fireworks from little stands on the street. The traditions here are very different, but I plan on taking (some of) them home with me. The really great tradition about new years, besides all the guys dressed as female widows dancing in the streets collecting money from passing cars, is that everyone builds a doll of themselves, life size, and at midnight you set it ablaze to signify the passing of the old year and the old you. It’s very symbolic to watch all the events of the old year burning away. After the festivities, driving to their house in Quito, you could see little piles of burning rubble, remnants of once-were dolls, smoldering in the darkness. The piles burned and the widows danced away.

The morning after new years I awoke to my family calling my name. I walked to the window and looked out, only to see them already in the pool, fully dressed in their pjs, waiting for me to wake my lazy butt up and join them. And so I did. It’s an odd feeling to be in a hot water pool in close to freezing weather, in your pjs. I wish I had pictures. We must have stayed in the pool a good while, we ate lunch there and got out thoroughly pruned. Fun Fun.

Sometime between Christmas and new years we went fishing. Twice, because the first attempt the car broke down around six in the morning, so we went back home, fixed the car, and tried again the next morning, with an even earlier start, around four thirty. I left the house fully prepared for the cold with two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, two shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a coat, hat, gloves, and a scarf. I might have had two pairs of undergarments on, it was just that amazingly cold. The lake is two hours up in the mountains, and the early rise was worth the while to see the sun rising over the city. Absolutely gorgeous. We fished for a good six hours or so, and I caught a decent sized rainbow trout. I’m not much of a fisher, so I was proud. And that was my fishing adventure.

As quickly as the holidays came, they went, leaving me with the harsh truth that on the second of January, I would switch again, to yet another host family, my third for the year, and surely not my last. The day I left, my mom cooked my trout for me for lunch. That’s love. I went for my last motorcycle ride with Alejandro, went to take some pictures of the baby cows, and that was it. My stuff packed, my chairman in my driveway, and me choking out goodbyes to a family that I fell head over heels in love with. I cried so hard when I left, it feels like your heart breaking in a thousand pieces, saying goodbye. I can honestly say that that was one of the hardest things that I have done in my life so far. Which is completely irrational, because they live 15 minutes away and I can visit whenever I want. That thought comforted me none, and it still felt like a part of my soul was being taken away, I couldn’t speak, let alone breathe. Just choke on words that I hadn’t prepared myself to say. I still don’t know how I managed to leave.

My new host family is really great. They aren’t Paz, but they are wonderful in their own way. My mom Jessy is the vice-mayor, so I go to a lot of functions and whatnot with her. My dad Mario is a civil engineer, but took the year off to help with the exchange students. It’s such a role reversal, the mom working, and the dad playing the part of a frantic house wife. Quite funny. I have two siblings, an 11 year old sister Mariuxi, and a 14 year old brother David. I love them both, but I get along with them in very different aspects. They are all very nice people, and though I miss the farm life, it’s nice living back in the city. A few days after the switch, I had to say goodbye to my Paz brother, Alejandro, who was heading back to the university life in Honduras. I already had a broken heart from leaving the family, but saying goodbye to him was even harder because I honestly don’t know when or if I’ll ever see him again. Once again I choked out the words that I have come to hate….and to make it worse, Francisco Paz is leaving at the end of this month to study in Argentina for a bit, meaning yet another difficult goodbye. I can’t think of that yet, I just can’t. It is all just an early reminder that in six short months, I will be saying my own goodbyes, and I will be the one leaving everything behind. And it will be so hard, knowing I won’t be just 15 minutes away from the family I love, but rather a continent apart. Knowing that I might not see most of these people ever again in my life. I can’t imagine it, and I don’t want to…not yet.

School seems to be something that occupies my time between 7 in the morning and two in the afternoon. Some classes are decent, but for the most part I feel like it is a giant waste of my time. Luckily I have Eric in my class as well. Misery always loves company…just kidding. We do what we can in the classes that allow it, and when there truly is nothing to do, it’s independent study. I work on my chemistry, the language, he works on music and the like. Some days the classes are great, other days it’s an extremely long study hall. Either way, I am always learning and working on the language, which is really all that can be asked for.

Things that require planning here are unbelievably unorganized. Which is so frustrating when I am trying to pay for trips and see what’s required and everything that is the life of an exchange student. Monthly allowance that’s given once a month, on time, would be a blessing. We get no warning for anything. For example, someone just called me tonight to let me know that there’s a mandatory meeting tomorrow. It’s not that I mind the meetings, but when it involves canceling plans with my favorite uncle to go get my favorite food, I am not a happy camper. But, not everything in this world is equal, and not everyone has the planning, organization, and consideration, that my beloved Al Kalter has back stateside. And I guess sometimes I have to force myself to realize that.

On a happier note, I baked cookies today for Anita Paz’s birthday. Very fun adjusting the recipe for the difference in ingredients, and the altitude, and converting everything to the metric system. You know. But seriously, it was a lot of fun as I really do like baking and the sort. It reminds me of home. And you guys will never believe where I eventually found baking soda…of course not in the stores, but rather in the pharmacy. Cool, huh? I thought so…the cookies turned out well, and I just got home from the Paz house. She liked them, and that’s the important part. Happy Birthday!

PS. We have no school this week woot woot

Monday morning I woke up with the most terrible urge to go to Ambato, a city about forty minutes south of here. I took a shower, got dressed, and asked my dad if I could go. He said no, and I was left there with an odd look on my face, as he hasn’t said no before. He noticed something was wrong, and explained himself. Apparently, you know, like if it was any other event, on any given day, the transit system was on strike, and almost every major highway was blocked with buses on strike, effectively paralyzing movement between any two given cities, and transportation in the entire country. It was so odd how he said it, kind of like oh, look, a strike, a complete and utter gridlock of the road systems, who wants lemonade? I watched the news, as there wasn’t much else to do. These strike things get violent in some parts, complete with police brutality, gang activity, and gas bombs. Luckily not in my quiet little Latacunga, but definitely in Quito and the larger cities. Because the roads were blocked, many people were on foot, some walking more than eight hours to get to a destination. I wasn’t sure what to think, it’s just such a different attitude. It’s like, hey guys, we really want this, let’s freeze the entire country for an indefinite amount of time. But, I woke up Tuesday morning with the same terrible urge to go to Ambato, and lo and behold, the strike had ended and life was back to normal. I guess these things happen…

The Rotary fifteen has come, and gone, and come again, and is in the process of leaving for good. I’m actually lighter than I was when I left, but not as slim as I would like. It’s the battle of the exchange student I guess.

Not too much else has been going on lately. I have oodles (have I used that word in the past five months?- I think not) of reflective thoughts and whatnot. But English is a struggle, with the grammar and the spelling, and the use of only one side of exclamation points and question marks. Much better if I head off to bed, share those thoughts on another night (also keeping up that resolution!) when I can think more clearly. Hey, at least the monotonous updating is done and out of the way, right, right? I hope so. And here is where I leave you all. Right after this point. Here.

Lots of love from Ecuador

Tajah

Here’s a quick mention to the up and coming outbounds of 06-07… did you guys make it alive through the interviews? I hope so, for your sake. Maybe they weren’t as nerve shaking as ours, but knowing Al, they were worse. Some were reduced to tears. You guys should be finding out soon who made it and where you are going if my memory isn’t wrong. Are you reading all of our journals faithfully? You should be, with the exception of mine, they seem to be of much higher quality than those of last year, full of more insight and advice. Just as we learned a lot from the people before us, you guys are going to learn a lot from us as well. And because we just happen to be spread out halfway around the darn globe right now, our journals are the memoirs that we leave to you. I wish you all the best of luck, and look forward to meeting you all at the Welcome Home Dinner in July!

February 12 Journal

PRE-NOTE: I actually did write this during half time, or at least I started it, but due to my famous ability to procrastinate, it’s being sent a week later. But hey, a journal is a journal.

WARNING: highly unorganized thoughts ahead, proceed with caution

Has there ever been a more fitting time for an exchange student from the states to write a Rotary journal? I think not!! Can anyone say HALFFFF-TIIIIMMMMMEEEEE!!!!

I can only wish that touchdown would translate into gooooooooooal in Spanish. It would make me happy. Indeed. But, alas, no such luck.

So, now, in the almost exact middle of my exchange year, in the middle of the most important American football game of the year, I sit here in front of the computer typing my thoughts away. Which I guess isn’t the best time to pour your heart and soul out, you know, while Mick Jagger is doing the same thing on the world’s most televised event….but I guess you win some and you lose some…

Looking back a year, I had just finished those brutal district interviews, didn’t know if I’d be accepted into the program or not, and Al still seemed like a grumpy old man to me. And since then, so much has happened as you know, and Al is now somewhat similar to Santa Claus in my mind. A round jolly man with his sack full of exchanges and wise words, which get distributed right around Christmas. He no longer seems old, nor grumpy, but rather one of the kindest, most young at heart people I have ever met. My fellow exchangers know exactly what I mean.. But, thinking a year ahead is seemingly impossible. I assume I’ll be in college, unless my English has deteriorated to the point that no respectful university would accept me (typing this is painful and slow). Wouldn’t it be amazing to know where you’d be in the years to come, how your life would develop? I think that it would be, but it’s so much more interesting when things are hazy shades of gray.

Let’s see if you can picture this, how I am right now, at this moment in time. . I just had café with my father, mint tea and empanadas, and we talked a good hour or so about life. I’m upstairs, typing, occasionally glancing hopefully out the window, Jessy should be home earlier tonight than last night, and I haven’t seen her all week (explanation later). A friend just called me, one of those people whose very voice fills the room with sunlight. And I’m listening to Frank Sinatra, the other love of my life. I am happy, so very happy. I waltzed up the stairs when Claudia called, but I decided typing was a little more important, and knowing my good graces with gravity, a little less hazardous as well. And here I am, racking my brain for words and phrases in English that only spell checker can bring back to life, singing along with songs I haven’t heard in months, but still know every note. It’s a wonderful feeling. Just thought I’d share.

Time is still flying by, insanely too fast. Especially now that I know when I will get home. 8:15 Friday night, July 21st. I knew it would be around that time. But assigning an actual day, an actual minute makes everything so final and official. It’s a deadline, the flat line of my year. It seemed like so much more time when I’d say, oh I’ll go home sometime this summer, but now there is no doubt about it. Damn Americans and their infernal planning.

As a general rule of thumb I hadn’t spoken English for my first couple months here. Only when talking to people back home, or the occasional conversation with Eric or Ashley when Spanish didn’t quite suffice (which it oftentimes doesn’t). However, with the Paz family, though I didn’t speak English much, when I did, I realized how very different I am in the two languages, how different my brothers were when they spoke English. I have no earthly idea why it is like it is, but it gives me motivation to learn as many languages as possible. You really can’t understand a person until you can communicate with them in their mother tongue. It breaks my heart to know that most of the world speaks English (or dreams of it) because I can’t help but wonder how much culture has already been lost or continues to be lost. Just something to think about I guess….

Maybe it’s the realization, the settling in that this is home. I have felt like that for a while now though. This is my home here in this city. I know these streets, I have my friends, my favorite restaurants, things that I like to do and things that I don’t. I can identify the strange noises in the night. I no longer mistake the damn garbage truck and its misleading music for an ice cream truck. I know the bus routes, I know the general rhythm of life. But I think that it’s the realization that it’s home, but by no means is it permanent. In five months, it will all be over, all be gone, like some dream that I don’t want to wake up from yet. I have so many things to look forward to in the coming months. The trip to the Amazon rain forest, to the Galapagos, the visits of friends or family (maybe), and my birthday. But I also realize that with each thing I look forward to, time has to pass for it to come, meaning one less day that I will be here in Ecuador. Which was alright when I first got here, because a year seemed like an infinitely long amount of time, but now that my year is half gone, each second counts. Sometimes I fill with panic, knowing my days are numbered. It’s insane how quickly time goes by, some moments I feel guilty for sleeping, for blinking, because its one more second I can’t get back. I despise waiting in lines, but that’s not new. And the ‘hora ecuatoriana’ doesn’t help at all. Pretty much, it means that when someone tells you that they will be somewhere at 3, you go there at 4, and still wait half an hour for them to show up, on a good day. There have been times that I’ll be two hours late, and still the first one to arrive. It’s kind of entertaining at times, but when I feel like time is slipping away from me anyway, it doesn’t help……..

You know you’re truly an exchange student when every moment that passes by seems to float before your eyes like a series of snapshots and self portraits. Every thing you do, everywhere you go, you can imagine showing the pictures to your family and Rotary club, explaining every sheer second of your year. But even more than this, every instant seems to find a way into your heart, every single second becomes one more part of who you are, of the person who you have become, and continue to become. And it’s not fair how quickly it all fades away…days are spent absorbing sights and sounds, not because they are new and exciting like they were the first part of your year, but rather because your heart can’t bear the thought of forgetting them. Driving with my family, I dare not take my eyes off of the mountains, fearing that if I do, even to blink, they might disappear.

Now that I am plunging rapidly into the second half of my year, everything has doubled in importance. Every food, every flower, every friend, seems so much more significant. I enjoy every second of every day, but there is that tiny little voice in my heart that whispers, in five months it’s over. And it’s true, I know it, but that does not mean that I have to accept it yet. Hell, I have five months to do that (even as I type these words I know how quickly five months will pass)…to contemplate that my life here is only a temporary part, not meant to last. A learning experience, full of friends and family and adventures. I plan to put that dreadful part off until the last possible second, figuring it better to pretend that it will never end than to face the cold hard truth that it will, and way too soon for my comfort.

But even so, I know better. That little voice grows louder every day, warning me, threatening me with what might be the end of the best year of my life. That doesn’t stop me from living life to the fullest, appreciating everything that is my life here. But with every hug from a family member, every outing with friends, every kind word or encouragement, I create a new voice, one that says that even though my time here will end, my impact here never will. I might be gone, but I am damn sure taking a part of the heart of every person that I have met here with me when I go, and I’m leaving behind a million parts of my own.

One thing that I truly admire about Ecuadorians is their wisdom, and honesty. I would say that almost all of the upper class society, though they may not all be intelligent (there are stupid people in every society of the world), they are very very wise. They know how to look back over their lives, and they appreciate criticism of what they have done wrong, and never pride themselves excessively on what they have done right. From what I’ve seen, the general opinion is, God means for me to do right, so if I do, it’s me being won over by fate. But I must really be stupid to make a mistake, and there are things that I am obviously meant to learn from it. They have such a unique view on the world, on youth, on how things should be and how the will be. They understand so many things that only the few and far between understand back home. It’s a wonderful outlook on life, though a touch too religious for my personal taste, but the foundations stay the same regardless. And they are some of the most honest people I have met in my life. Though it takes them forever to get to it, they always do. It’s that type of deal where they will call to ask a favor but first spend ten minutes asking about your day and your family. And it’s genuine concern, which makes it so much more pleasant. These are some of the things that I want to take home with me, there are so many beautiful aspects about their culture. Sometimes I wonder why the country is so poor, why it has so many problems. But the simple truth is that because so many of the people are so far below the poverty line, they never get an education, they never advance, because there is no economy, there are no jobs, there is no money. There are hardly opportunities for the rich people, let alone the people that have been living day to day for generations, people who don’t know if they will have enough food to eat today, let alone tomorrow, but continue to have eight or nine kids so they can help with work, they can help beg on the streets. It’s a very sad reality, but true nonetheless. And when the population is so split like it is, it doesn’t matter how many wise people there are, it doesn’t matter what revolutions start, it will never change. It can’t. Unless some tremendous disaster happened and all of the population was wiped out, things will never change. And even if that did happen (knock on wood), society would more than likely re-develop exactly as it is now, if not worse, because it’s habit, it’s tradition, it’s all these people have ever known. I am not sure how I will handle living at my next host family this spring, one of their maids is only 10 years old, and has already been with them two years. Can you imagine? She is a real sweetheart, a very mature little girl, but still. Ten years old with more work experience than a lot of kids my age.

Something that really struck me when I first got here was how cheap things were, on average one third of the cost that I am used to. But then I realized that the salary is proportional as well. Rich people are still rich, of course, often times filthily so. But if you’re not rich, you’re pretty much screwed. A very extremely well paid maid that lives at the house, works everyday, from sun up to sundown, does all the cleaning, laundry, cooking, might make 150 to 200 a month. Maybe, if they are very very very lucky. And that’s considered a very good job. Taxi drivers make a killing, and they are among the rich people. But the poor people, the really poor people, might make 10 to 40 a month. That’s it. I cant believe it sometimes. It’s just sad. But there isn’t anything that I can do, you know? I have seen so many little kids begging for money, so many people missing limbs, dragging themselves through the streets, bloody, and it kills me to think that they make more money like that than if they were healthy. My old host mom was telling me that she had tried so many times when she was younger to help get legless people prosthesis or even a wheelchair, finding funding and a willing hospital to donate, but every time the people refused because they make so much more money without a leg, with no arms. It’s a horrible reality when being handicapped is often consider lucky and an economic benefit. It’s things like this that break my heart. Which brings me to my next paragraph

So as unorganized as my host Rotary Club seems to be, I have recently learned that they sponsor one event every year, that is one of the most amazingly organized and wonderful things that I have ever seen in my life. Project C.H.A.N.G.E. (children’s health and nutrition goals through education). Each February, the Latacunga Rotary Club serves as the sponsors for Project Change, a group of doctors that comes mostly from the states, but originating from around the world. These doctors come to the small town of Salcedo, about twenty minutes south of my precious Latacunga, to perform free plastic surgery to men women and children. They operate on anything from cleft lips to scars, free of charge.

I had known that the doctors would be coming since the first week that I was here in Ecuador. I was told way back then that it was essential to know the body parts and to speak good Spanish by the time February rolled around. And of course, by the time they got here, Super Bowl Sunday, my Spanish and body part vocabulary was more than sufficient. Woot for being bilingual!!

I arrived at the hospital early Sunday morning, only to be greeted by a crowd of about two hundred people waiting outside. A member of Rotary was standing in the bed of a pick up truck, screaming things about groups, order, and patience to the crowd through the megaphone. As many times as I heard the phrase please divide into groups, the less organized the crowd seemed to become. Luckily for me, another Rotary member saved me and escorted me to the other side of the fence, away from the crowd and close to the hospital. The doctors arrived, a seeming stream of white that separated the crowd with their bags and belongings. I thought to myself, ‘that will never be enough supplies’……little did I know that semi truck was filled front to back with box upon box of medical supplies, stuffed animals, and clothing. The first part of the morning, after unloading the boxes from the truck, was shuffled between getting to know some of the doctors, helping to translate between doctor and patient, and sorting drugs. A seemingly easy job until I realized that there were several large boxes filled to the brims with random medicine, tiny little bottles of hell, as I like to call them. But either way, by the end of Sunday night I had organized and sorted all the drugs by type and expiration date, had them put into little slide out drawers, alphabetically of course. Those of you who know me, know how neurotic I am about organization once I get into the swing of things. But sometime between the morning and evening, I found a way to get a piece of glass from a broken bottle jammed in my thumb. Not being fond of glass pieces under my skin, and surrounded by doctors in a hospital, I decided to ask one to remove the glass. Big mistake. The person I asked didn’t really want to, and recommended another doctor to do it for me, the ‘splinter expert´ apparently. So I found a new pair of pick-ups, and headed in search of the doctor. I realized with growing dread that he was in the main room interviewing potential patients. Can you imagine how awful I felt as I made my way through the waiting crowd, some without ears, some with horrible burn scars, others with worse conditions yet, with nothing more than a mere sliver in my hand? I felt, as irrational as I knew it was, like a prissy over-privileged white girl. Although I knew it was important to remove quickly (not knowing which medicine bottle had broken), I felt like such an awful person, squeezing my way to the front of the ever growing line to the front. I know it’s stupid, but just a thought, I guess. I got out of the hospital late Sunday night, and sat down to watch the half time (where this journal originally started)

Monday morning, bright and early I was back in the hospital, organizing other things, and about midday I headed into the operating room. I was able to talk to patients while they were waiting, explain to them what exactly was going on, and help keep the non-sedated ones calm during surgery. I had always wanted to be a doctor when I was a little girl, but in the back of my mind I had always figured that the blood would bother me. But, luck be had, it didn’t. Tuesday and Wednesday passed the same, an early rise, and a late end, often times not getting home till ten or eleven at night. Very tiring work, but it didn’t bother me a bit, I was happy to do it. Thursday morning I went with two of the doctors to the orphanage to donate some toys and clothing. And the rest of Thursday and Friday I passed much like the beginning of the week, bringing drugs and supplies back and forth, talking to patients, setting up IV’s, and assisting in the operating room and recovery room. All in all the doctors performed an amazing 92 procedures in five days, with only three operating rooms, three nurses, and a team of plastic surgeons. I saw so many surgeries, and learned so many things during this past week. I saw tumors removed, noses and ears reconstructed, everything imaginable. I was fine with the surgeries themselves, but seeing some of the patients broke my heart. Like a young boy that they have been operating on for nearly ten years, when he was six his parents sent him out to get gas with a candle, and he tripped and fell, and now has full body burns. Apparently it was so bad that his chin got burned onto his chest. Another young boy was doused in gasoline by his classmates and then they set him on fire. I cannot believe the cruelty in this world, sometimes. But at the same time, the fact that there are doctors that are willing to volunteer their time and money to such a worthwhile cause is absolutely amazing. I guess it’s just another balance in life. Some of the patients were the most incredible people, smiling and cheerful. My favorite, a ten year old named Jonathan. I have never met a cooler little kid. I think the most interesting surgery that I saw was an ear reconstruction. What they do is draw a stencil of the shape of ear they need, remove just this shape from the rib area, and insert it in the ear area. Lots of blood, but it was really cool seeing the doctors carve the ear shape from a chunk of cartilage. I never would have imagined that’s how it would be done…..the miracles of modern medicine I suppose. The week went by insanely fast, and I got to know a lot of the doctors really well, some from Bermuda, Massachusetts, Florida, Texas, Missouri, California, New York, and my favorite, the one from Scotland that lives in Bermuda. It was a crazy week, I saw and learned unbelievable amounts of things.

Its such an amazing thing that there are projects like this in the world, and such an awarding experience to take part in one. A huge thanks to Project C.H.A.N.G.E. on behalf of my countries (both the states and Ecuador) and of course my Rotary Club of Latacunga, District 4400!!!!!!!!!!!

There seemed to be more that I wanted to write about, but the crooning of old blue eyes has distracted me from any logical thought procession. I apologize. I really ought to go now, but I will write again soon I promise. Tuesday I leave for the Amazon…I have plenty of bug spray, no worries.

Con Amor

Taj

PS….Here are some random shout outs: Lots of love to my mom, you’re still the best, the world over; To my aunt and uncle who fund all of my crazy adventures here and always offer unconditional support and love; To my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in Wisconsin, lots of love; To Woo, the most amazing and beautiful girl I have ever met; To my wonderful sponsor club back home; To my chairman and my counselor, enjoy my random letters and treat the next class of outbounds as well as you have treated us; Lots of love to the most amazing boyfriend in the world, Broderick, complete with cordial cherries and puzzles in time for Valentine’s; To Jarrod, you crazy artist you…will my room be filled with sculptures when I get back?; and while I’m at it, I might as well send a little love out to Harvard and Duke University…I’m looking forward to the interviews; Love to my brother Justice, wherever in the world you may be, and I hope you cause an international incident first, I would hate to take your claim…lol; To my friends and teachers from high school, know that I love you and haven’t forgotten; To Donna, the chem papers finally got here, thanks a bunch hun….and lots of love to anyone who actually takes the time to read this darn journal..

PPS….TO THE UP AND COMING OUTBOUNDS: Congrats! You made it, you proved yourself worthy of this exchange year. You don’t know how jealous I am, you have an entire year in front of you, and we only have less than half of ours left…Are you being good children and starting to study your new country, culture, and language. You better….There’s no excuse not to, you guys have the best resources in the world. Write to us whenever you want, and we will answer, occasionally in English! Congrats again, and enjoy the orientation meetings to come (don’t dare be late, I made that mistake – flat tire and bad directions). Lateness is not tolerated, be warned. Other than that, live up the Florida life and start preparing for your year!!!

March 30 Journal

I would like to start off by saying that this journal is a TON longer than I though it would ever be, but due to an excess of time on my hands (which will be explained near the end) you guys will just have to deal. Or you can just skip this month, I’m fine with either one. But I’m warning you right now…this may be the longest journal ever!!!

OK, update…I’m still typing, its more of a novel, be warned!!!!!

Man oh man. I am not sure that I am entirely comfortable with how fast time flies. It’s March, whether I want it to be or not.

OK, so last time I wrote, I had helped with the surgeons that came, and was completely hyped to go on my trip to the Amazon. I had originally planned to write the very day I got back, BUT things never seem to work out like that.

THE TRIP: So, Valentine’s Day Ashley and I caught a bus to Quito around six in the morning. Once in Quito, we met up with the kids from Riobamba at the bus terminal and cabbed our way to the national airport. Where, we got food. I don’t think anyone knows how to eat like exchange students do…but it was good. Overpriced, but good. Around ten, the other members of the group started showing up. Which was a surprise because the web page said that we would be a group of eight. And in Rotary, eight obviously means twenty three. So we all waited in the airport, catching up on everything that has happened in the past couple months, and welcoming the two new inbounds from Brazil, Fabio and Gabriella. It’s amazing how good of friends you become with other exchange students, even if you’ve only spent a total of three weeks with them. It’s a bond that words can’t describe. Jade and Jessica wound up being in my group, of which I was very excited. They are the two coolest girls this side of the equator, I swear it.

So, around noon, the eleven o’clock flight left (la hora ecuatoriana no tiene un reloj). We all boarded the plane, not quite knowing what to expect. It was a short flight, only about thirty minutes or so, marked perfectly by Jessica’s odd hand clapping thing. We landed in Coca. (This is your cue to pull out a map so you have an idea of what I’m talking about…) As soon as we stepped off the plane (we all got roses – it was Valentine’s day) it hit. It felt like Florida, but hotter if that’s possible. It was so damn hot. Like that type of heat where suicide starts to seem like a good idea. We gathered our bags, melting, but mainly just stripping any expendable clothing. Since I’m from the mountains, I had a lot to shed. We piled the bags into the back of a pickup, and climbed into the bus. It was originally planned to make the trip by canoe, but due to the late flight, the bus seemed more practical. It was like sitting in an oven from hell. Thankfully, hell’s ovens have windows…

After about twenty minutes we made a pit stop at a hotel. We, of course, thought that it might be our hotel. Which was completely ok with us, the water slide was a welcoming sight. But alas, it wasn’t so. Most of us wound up changing clothes into cooler things. It was just my luck that sock-wise all I have are school socks, meaning blue knee socks, and an abundance of long cold-weather toe socks that my loving family sent me for x-mas. Nothing like the shorts and rolled down knee socks look to start off a trip. We played with the monkeys for a while, way too friendly. Mike got peed on. All the roses got attacked and eaten. Good fun. We piled back into the bus, still dying from the heat. I sat next to Jessica, which if you remember, is one of the coolest girls this side of the equator.

We got some of the saddest lunches I have ever seen. Bananas and sandwiches that consisted of well, bread and bananas. But that’s ok. Just the bus ride itself was so gorgeous. It’s such a different landscape and general feel than the mountains. Coca is a huge city, mostly known for its oil drilling. Nothing like some nice clean oil drilling in the middle of the Amazon Rain Forest. It breaks my heart.

The bus ride was two hours long, where we got to know our guide Hector, and basically just chatted the entire time. We arrived somewhere along the Napo river, where the bus let us off. Randomly, on the shore, off of some ‘road’. All the luggage was put in a canoe, and we waited for it to make its return trip. Thirty minutes later, we ourselves were making our way to Yachana Lodge. The canoe ride was really nice, seeing the river bordered by those crazy walls of green trees. Breathtaking.

We arrived at the lodge, gathered our stuff and were shown to our rooms. Our side of the lodge had a camp feel, as we were divided up into three rooms with multiple bunk beds in each one. I got the top bunk, Ashley got the bottom. She figured heat rises, I figured I would rather sleep next to the screen window. My logic definitely kicked her logics butt.

We had dinner, and walked around to get more of a feel of the lodge. I met the owner and founder. A really great guy, very interesting with a more compassionate heart that most people I have met in my life. I’ll write more about the lodge and high school in a little bit.

Dinner was good. Soup, rice, some type of meat. The diet never really changes much. Ever. I hope that Melanie likes rice…

After dinner, we caught a couple hours of sleep, then had a small party. Lots of card games, etc etc. No Rotary supervision, which was nice. It doesn’t mean we broke rules or anything*, but it was a more free feeling, as the past two trips had been crazily structured. It was nice just hanging out and doing our thing.

The next morning I woke up, took a shower (no hot water-prolly better that way anyway), and we all went to breakfast. Where we were issued knee high rubber work boots, and told the day’s agenda. The first item for the day: hard physical labor. That’s not necessarily what you want to hear your first day on a trip, but our opinion changed with time. So we all donned those damn rubber boots that I have come to hate with a passion, and met outside on the patio hut thing, still very early in the morning. Keep in mind that this lodge is right on the Napo river, in the heart of the Amazon. Just setting the scene.

So, with Hector leading, we began our walk to Yachana high school. Remember, I’ll write more about it in a little bit. The first part of the walk was nice, it was still ungodly hot, but that’s one of those things you just learn to accept. We walked through the small pueblo of Mondaña, with a population of less than 100. Then we navigated the path, the log bridges, the random stairs, and all those type things. Twenty minutes later, Hector told us we were close to the high school. And then we found ourselves at the bottom of a staircase, all made from logs imbedded into the dirt. All 102 of them. Stairs and I never quite get along (more of a gravity thing than anything), but due to my super lung capacity from living at 10,000 feet, they weren’t an issue. We stopped midway, as Hector showed us some ants, explaining that they could be used as stitches if you get injured in the wild. And then he demonstrated their pinching ability by placing one of Jade’s nose, who demonstrated her dislike for ants by doing something similar to the world famous pee-dance, attempting to pull the ant off. Hector was right, they have an incredibly strong ability to pinch and hold on. Poor Jade.

So we dropped by the high school, picked up some tools and made our way to a clearing/field nearby. By clearing/field, I mean a hectare of land that used to be a corn field but had grown over a little with grasses, plants, and still had tree trunks sprawled all over it. Ten students from the high school were waiting with even more tools. We were divided up into groups of two or three, and paired with a student. I got paired with Jade, still bleeding slightly from the ant. A student came over, introduced himself as Jhony, and handed us machetes.

There’s nothing quite like physical labor. And handing exchange students sharp tools may not be the best idea in the world.

Our job? Clear the field. All of it. Every square inch of that hectare. Jade, Jhony, and I got to cutting down all the plants with the machetes, hacking away. Jade and I agreed it was blasphemous, as both of us have quite a love for nature. But some things are how they are. So, in the middle of the Amazon, with people from all over the world, in the blazing sun, we worked and worked and worked. Time seemed to stand still, due to the heat. Within minutes we were all drenched with sweat. Puddles formed in the bottom of the boots (black rubber up to your knees is not ideal for keeping cool) While we cut brush and plants, others had heavy metal rakes, raking the dried corn stalks and freshly demolished plants into giant piles. So, what do we have to do? Yes, that’s right, set the piles on fire. So now, we are not only working crazy hard in the blistering sun, we are working next to giant piles of burning brush. Not fun. Jhony and I talked a long while, and though it may be from heat stroke, it felt like I was talking to an old friend. It was a really great feeling, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt very much so at home. We worked until the afternoon, and between us we cleared about half the field that day. Some of the locals brought a giant pot of chicha for us to try. It’s yucca beer. It was good. You know, white, bitter and slightly chunky. Yummy.

We headed back to the lodge, on the way stopping to watch a dance performance in Mondaña. It was really interesting seeing the traditional dances from the east, as they differ tremendously from the ones from the coast and mountains. Each region very distinct. The costumes were great, most of them consisting of strategically placed palm leaves. Pictures will come, I promise.

We got to the lodge, took showers (cold water becoming more and more of a blessing), changed, and napped until lunch. People back in Florida understand how much energy the sun can take out of you, even from just sunning at the beach. Imagine hours of labor…Lunch was good, soup, rice, meat, potatoes. And an endless supply of lemonade (in Ecuador, this means limeade), that looked more like water than anything, but was crazy tasty.

After lunch we napped a little more. No one knows how to sleep like exchange students do. At three we met with Hector, again with the damn rubber boots. (I have never hated something so much in my life-though I began to love my knee socks even more). We headed on a jungle walk. Abel, a student from the high school that we lovingly called jungle boy just because, well, that’s what the shirt said. It was a very apt name, well-deserved. People with such knowledge at such a young age never cease to amaze me.

We started heading deep into the Amazon, and the further we got, the more of an uphill climb it was. That’s a very common misconception, I think. We all learn about the rainforest in school, about the canopy, all that type stuff. But somehow, in all the illustrations, its perfectly flat. That’s false advertising, buddies. Stairs began to show up, much like the ones we climbed to get to the high school, all built from logs. My legs ached, after the first couple hundred, but I pushed on, with my super crazy awesome lung capacity. One of the first things we saw was a red and blue poisonous dart frog. To me, the entire thing just made such an impression on me. I was walking around in the Amazon, something I’d only ever seen in books before, seeing animals that make their way onto discovery shows, things you hear and read about, and see pictures of, but even with all that, it all seems so unreal, so far away, so intangible. But, seeing these things in person, smelling the smells, feeling the heat, changed everything. It makes it so real, so crazy beautiful that words in any language will never be able to convey the true meaning. I will never find a way to express how much I fell in love, how amazing it was. So, you’ll have to take my word, and try to understand the emotion behind it…

What really stole my heart were the trees, those crazy trees that seemed to reach the sky, stretching up infinitely, blocking the sun, blocking the blue of the sky except for tiny little patches peeping through. One of the thoughts that I couldn’t get out of my head, and still can’t was ‘I could live here forever, and never lose my lust for life…but can I leave, and still keep it, this passion that I feel now??’. I don’t think I have my answer yet, but I fear the worst.

We stopped along the way to have a tree climbing contest. I didn’t bother, gravity and I are at eternal odds. But it was fun seeing the guys shed the boots and climb this tiny little trunk that wound up being a lot stronger than I thought possible. They all struggled, and I could see their muscles shaking from the exertion. Benner won. Then after all the guys had gone, and some girls (we were less willing to shed the boots, oddly enough), Hector looped the vine he had been holding for quite some time, forming a small circle. He shed his sandals, put his feet in the loop, and using it to grip onto the tree, effortlessly made his way up to the top. Damn jungle tricks. Keep in mind that Hector must be in his forties and is a round little man…you know its just not right when he beats a group of teenagers at the peak of their physical condition.

Hector taught us about the countless usages of the different plants and trees. Most of them being medical. He talked about how the drug companies had caught on to the secrets hidden in the forest, and in order to find new usages had begun exploiting the forest, exploiting local knowledge, destroying the habitat of thousands of species of animals and plants. At this point, I couldn’t decide which broke my heart more. The oil companies, drilling and destroying for energy purposes, or the drug companies, destroying in the name of the ‘greater good’. Bullshit. Hector said something that really impacted me. ‘If there is a cure for cancer, I am sure it is here, somewhere. We all share the responsibility of protecting the rainforest, so it can be found.’

More stairs followed. Interrupted by downhill slopes, which though a blessing to leg muscles in reality only meant that more stairs would soon follow. I lost count of the stairs, but we eventually wound up at this little hut thing on the edge of a cliff, way high up, looking over the river and the canopy of other sections of the jungle. We arrived just in time to watch the sun go down. Beautiful.

We headed back to the lodge. No party, just some hardcore sleepage.

So, here’s the deal. I can try to wrack my brain remembering what we did which day, etc etc, or I can do what I do best, and write it in conveniently random bulleted form….hmmm…what ever shall I do? ITS BULLLETT TIIIMMEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

-The field story: Over the next few days, we continued working on the field, always in the morning after breakfast till just about lunch time. We spent another day doing the raking and hacking thing. Jade and I kept working with Jhony (who I now know is one of the coolest guys this side of the equator), switching between hacking and raking. Both caused crazy amounts of blisters. At the end of the second day of field work, we had finished. It was clear, spotted only with burnt patches of black and the tree trunks that the machetes did nothing against. So on the third day of work we cut up all of the trunks into smaller sections, and rolled, hauled, and pushed them to one corner of the field. Which doesn’t sound bad in theory, but in reality is exhausting work. Especially when its not like nice smooth tree trunks, but old crooked ones that have become infested with ants, spiders, and/or beetles. There’s no way quite like hauling logs around without gloves to get hurt. I gave Jade what she swears is the coolest scar of her life by dropping a log while we were carrying it, having been attacked by ants. Mmm…fun stuff. That was some of the most exhausting work I’ve done in my life. We got nasty dirty, and we all got our share of bites, cuts, and scrapes. It was absolutely amazing how quickly we cleared that land, even though it took a lot of hard work, it was so worth it to look and see it cleared. The next time we went to work, we planted the entire thing with rice. I don’t know if any of you have ever planted rice, but it involves poking shallow holes in the ground about eight inches apart in rows, also about eight inches apart. The hole poking is the easy part, you just use a pointy stick and walk along poking holes. Or, you can double time it, and use tow sticks, poking holes on either side of you. The bad part is the filling of the holes. This is what I got stuck doing. You have to put about four or five grains of rice in each hole. Let me repeat. You have to put about four or five grains of rice IN EACH AND EVERY HOLE. Do you know how many holes there are in a hectare of a rice field? Yeah, I thought not. Even that doesn’t sound too bad, until you realize that to place the rice, you walk permanently bent over at the waist, carefully putting the rice in the holes. Try doing that for three hours or more. You get dizzy, just following the rows of holes without standing up or looking around. But what a feeling of accomplishment when we realized that in the course of a week, we had cleared a lot of land, and planted the entire thing of rice. It somehow made all the work, the bites, the sore muscles and injuries completely and totally worth it. The fact that the students helped made it so much more meaningful, like we were contributing to their community, because even after we left, we all know that they will reap the harvest in the months to come. Good times.

-One of the days, after working in the field, we took a break by shucking dried corn. Have you ever shucked dried corn? I thought not. As I shucked, others beat the kernels off the cob. The image of Eric whacking away with a pole with be forever burned in my mind.

-One of the days of work on the way to the field, we made a short detour to help the high school students pluck some chickens. You know. A normal everyday detour, to pluck us some chickens. Though I lived on a farm for a good while, I hadn’t had the opportunity to pluck a chicken yet. I wouldn’t say that it was a un-agreeable experience, but I doubt that I’ll ever wake up with a craving to repeat it…

-The kind people of Mondaña invited us over one of the nights to a music competition that they were holding. Hector sang some amazing ballads. Eric was invited to play, and on his sad little guitar with one string missing, he played Hotel California. It wasn’t his best performance, but as usual, he sounded amazing. The traditional music from the east is very different from that of the sierra, so I think that it was a great opportunity that we all got to experience it, in living color.

-The tubing adventure: We were informed that we should all put our bathing suits on and head to the canoe. We complied, of course, some less willing than others to done a suit (the Rotary fifteen has become more like the Rotary twenty-five for some of us), but eventually we all made it there. We piled into the canoe, and headed a good hour or two up stream. The view from the river is absolutely amazing. The narrow shores are covered with round gray rocks, and lined with walls of green, broken up in random little places by waterfalls. It’s amazingly beautiful. They pulled up to the shore, and we all piled out. We unloaded eight inter tubes, shed our outer clothing, tightened the life jackets, and waded into the water. It was shallow, for all of a good ten seconds. And then the current swept us away, and we were floating down the Napo river. Some had the tubes, playing king of the hill and what not, but most of us were more than content to just float and observe the beauty of it. If you haven’t ever been tubing, it’s a very relaxing experience, with no effort at all, you make amazing time, and are free to float along with the current. There was only one rapid part of the river that we encountered, and we made a mad dash to keep to the right, slower side of the river. Swimming against the current is pretty freaking hard, let me tell you. But Hector is a great guide and kept us all a safe distance from the rapids and the rocks. At one point, the river got to be only about two feet deep, so we had to float on our backs, still swimming to keep to the right. It was just so peaceful, but alas, it only lasted about forty five minutes, and we had floated ourselves right back to the lodge.

-We also had the opportunity to meet the local medicine man, Domingo, which is very different from a shaman as we were told. The main difference is that shamans use chemical substances, while medicine men do not. The whole group of us took our seats in the hut, and Hector gave us a small lecture about having an open mind to other cultures, that not everything from our culture is 100% right, and that other cultures, as odd as some aspects may seem, have their merit as well. I think that we all felt that it was pretty much unnecessary for our group, as to be here we are obviously more open minded than most people, but we also recognized that there are, without a doubt, people out there who would say ‘medicine man-what a load of crock’ So, we paid attention, and Hector gave another introduction speech, explaining the role of the medicine man in a society, his duties and responsibilities, his training, etc etc. Domingo then introduced himself, a man of seemingly thirty years or so, but actually fifty, with eleven children. He seemed very wise, and very intelligent. After the formalities were over, Domingo lit the fire in the middle of the hut, and rolled a couple of cigar-type things from tobacco leaves. One by one, we took our seat on the chair in the middle, and Domingo performed the traditional cleansing ritual on us, brushing us with a small bunch of leaves, and blowing smoke down our backs and around our faces. About halfway through the ritual, he walks outside, blows a stream of smoke towards the sky, and with a swooshing sound, shakes the leaves as if he were ridding them of the bad energy he brushed off of us. He repeated the ritual, each time with a new bunch of leaves. The purpose of the ritual is to free you from any negative thoughts, and rejuvenate the spirit. And although I do happen to be a believer in western medicine, I also believe in the power of faith. It was all very interesting, and I think that people like Domingo deserve a lot more credit than they’re given

-Right after the cleansing ritual, jungle boy taught us how to throw a spear and blow darts through a very long blow gun, explaining different methods of hunting. After a couple tries, I really did get the hang of it. But I have to say that if I was the hunter for my village, they would all more than likely starve to death. But I can sure spear a papaya like nobody’s business.

-We took a walk through the woods, in the opposite direction of the high school. On the way, we saw the world’s smallest monkey. Eventually, after random log bridges and stairs (always with the random log stairs), we arrived at a large hut type thing. There, an indigenous lady taught us basket weaving and pottery. I failed at both. Which isn’t entirely my fault. One of the monkeys from the lodge had followed us on our way, and each time I would get a strip woven through, it would defiantly pull it back out, taunting me. I don’t think people realize how smart monkeys are. And then it stole my earrings. Damn monkeys.

-The first couple days on the trip it was hot and steamy, with a blistering sun like you can’t imagine. And I began to wonder ‘why is this called a rain forest?’ Well, close to the end of my stay, the skies opened up and showed me how it got its name. I got trapped midway between lodge and high school, and nearly got swept off my feet by the torrent of water that came down. It rained harder than I have ever seen in my life, and never ended, two days of rain like that. Yes folks, a rain forest indeed.

-This is completely irrelevant to my exchange year, but over the course of my stay at Yachana lodge, I have come to hate rubber boots with more of a passion than I have ever hated anything in my life. They cause blisters, cuts, and all sorts of ungodly discomforts. It got to the point that we began to arrive late to some activities during the trip, just out of dread of donning the boots again. That is all.

-Victor, from Denmark, is the funniest guy alive. That is all.

-Realizing our quickly diminishing supply of socks, Eric and I washed clothes, by hand. Fun stuff. My socks were Irish Spring fresh.

So, I guess I hadn’t realized how absolutely much I love this Rotary program until on the flight back from Coca to Quito, I wound up sitting next to a high school teacher from New York that had brought her Spanish class on a trip to Ecuador. I somehow found myself bragging about the program, surprising myself with how passionately I talked about how much of a great opportunity it is. Of course I gave her my Rotary card, and told her how to get someone to come to their school to give a presentation about the program…

-I had my first Taco Bell in six months when Jade and I went to the mall after our plane landed in Quito. It was disappointing, but still deserves a small mention in the journal. I <3 hot sauce

Here’s that information about Yachana Lodge etc. that I promised. It’s worth the read, I swear. But if you don’t want to, skip through till you see END.

Here’s the background. Yachana Lodge was constructed in 1995 by FUNEDESIN (the Foundation for Integrated Education and Development) to help the world better understand the rainforest and its inhabitants. It was constructed on the banks of the Napo river, deep in the Ecuadorian rainforest. Since then, Yachana lodge has generated over 2.2 million dollars that have been reinvested in the region. The lodge invests 100% of its profits in FUNEDESIN’s conservation, poverty reduction, education, and healthcare projects.

Yachana means “a place of learning” in Quichua (the indigenous language of Ecuador).The goal of the lodge is to find solutions to the problems of realistic life in the Ecuadorian Amazon, and the ideals of forest conservation. They sponsor many conservation projects, including the 3,600 acres of Protected Forest and environmental education efforts. Their poverty reduction, income generation, and agricultural assistance programs complement their conservation projects by promoting sustainable living and providing viable economic alternatives to logging, cattle ranching, and the raising of illicit crops. It was named by Lonely Planet Travel Guide as “the best true example of eco-tourism in Ecuador”

The mission of FUNEDESIN (in short) is to “find sustainable solutions that will contribute to reversing the spiral of impoverishment and environmental degradation that is ravaging the people and tropical forests of the Ecuadorian Amazon.”

A few of the most important accomplishments of FUNEDESIN are: – The founding of Yachana High School: In October of 2005, FUNEDESIN opened the Yachana High School to benefit high school-age indigenous and mestizo students who live in remote rural communities in Ecuador’s Amazon region. It is absolutely free. It is a non-traditional technical school, which promotes the conservation of the Amazon through teaching sustainable use of natural resources, providing professional skills to improve employability, and mentoring management of student-run micro-enterprises. Subjects include eco-tourism, sustainable agriculture, forest and wildlife management, and environmentally sustainable micro-enterprises. The students learn by being actively involved in all aspects of FUNEDESIN’s ongoing development and eco-tourism projects. Students are split into two groups, each group living at the school for 21 days, then switching. This allows students not only to be present at the high school 365 days of the year, but also to be able to help with family businesses/farms on their off schedule.

-The establishment of the Mondaña Medical Clinic in 1997, which offers the only full-time healthcare to 8,000 Quichua indigenous and mestizos living along the Upper Napo River

-Created Yachana Gourmet, an ecologically conscious company that has established a stable cacao market by annually buying tons of organically grown cacao directly from small-scale growers.

-Constructed 17 micro-credit programs, known as village banks, which allow farmers to increase and improve their production, cover health and education expenses, and open their own micro-enterprise.

-Constructed 21 schools in impoverished communities throughout the Ecuadorian Amazon.

-Purchased and conserved over 3,700 acres of rainforest…

Here are some random statistics that make me sad, but I think should be known: Health in the rural areas of the Napo Province: -the infant mortality rate in 70 per 1,000 live births (in the states it’s 6.3) -more than 95% of the inhabitants suffer from intestinal parasites -1 in 4 children under the age of 5 suffer life-threatening diarrhea every two weeks -only 32.9% of children receive all necessary immunizations before the age of one -there is no potable water or electricity in most of the communities Education -30% of elementary school children in the Amazon region do not finish 6th grade -only 5% finish secondary schooling -15,000 elementary schools in Ecuador have NO source of potable water*

-random fact: The Executive Director of FUNEDESIN and Yachana Lodge is Douglas McKeekin. END YACHANA STUFF

So, I got back from the jungle, complete with over 300 bug bites, halfway freaked out because I had just hit my six month mark, but mostly extremely motivated to make my best of the time I had left, live every day to the fullest, and not waste even a single moment. And of course, the day after I got back I got really freaking sick. Like vomiting, every two minutes running to the bathroom, fever and chills, crying from pain type of sick. The next week was a feverish haze of pills and questions and doctor visits, followed by a Saturday where I felt better, and went with my mom to a mass in Pujilí (a tiny little town close to here). Little did I know, in this city everyone dresses up to go to the mass. Even the horses are dressed up, all in costumes from the Mama Negra. It was very interesting, to say the least. Saturday night came, and I was back to bathroom running, vomiting, fever, and extreme abdominal pain…to the point of screaming and crying, again. More hazy memories of a trip to the doctor, and more pills.

Sunday we left early in the morning for Ambato, a city about forty minutes south of Latacunga. Traffic was insane, and it took us two hours to make the drive. Why? Carnival, and Ambato is one of the three hotspots to go in Ecuador. We got there, I saw a bit of the parade. It was amazing, countries from all over the world represented, traditional music and dances, beautiful costumes. It was amazing, but somehow didn’t seem to merit the month leading up to it that I had spent dodging water balloons and arriving home from school with egg, flour and/or shaving cream in my hair. Crazy Ecuadorians.

We went back to my grandparents house after that, where I proceeded to stay the next three days in bed, still with horrible abdominal pain, nausea, and an inability to keep anything except Gatorade and the occasional saltine down. Finally, Wednesday we returned to Latacunga. I still felt amazingly awful and so weak I could barely get out of bed, and hadn’t eaten solid food in a week and a half.

So they took me to the doctor, yet again, where he prescribed more medication, and ordered some tests. The prognosis? A severe intestinal infection and parasites. That’s not what you want to hear, ever. Parasites. Bleh. So, I was put on even more medication, for any imaginable symptom. I had already been extremely ill for just over two weeks, and the medication was not making me feel better. So, not thinking clearly, I did the thing that Rotary tells you not to do, and I called home. Which was both good and bad. The bad thing was my mother got very worried, as she hadn’t known about the situation until this point, and my aunt also became extremely worried. But, due to her concern, I was put in the hospital, put on the correct medication, received the proper treatment, and got better rapidly. And I am proud to say that I am 100% parasite free. Wooo!!!

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Al Kalter for his support, my chairman this side of the equator Renato Lanas, and of course Julio Gutierrez, head of Rotary YE here in Ecuador. All three of them helped me a ton through the entire process, and helped keep families both here and there calm and reassured. Thank you all so much!

I also have to make a quick thank you to my amazing host family that kept me sane through everything, especially my host mother who loves me more than anything in this world, and who I love even more, if that’s possible.

OK, so in order to make this journal as short as possible at this point in my writing, I’ll cut it off here. But I warn you, there’s another half…including stuff about Baños, all the crazy strikes that have been going on, the continuing TLC debate, Quito trips, and just random reflections. And as I’m leaving for Galapagos tomorrow, it will also cover that. Sorry again for the sheer length of it. It won’t happen again.

Lots of love Taj

PS, I just wanted to make a few quick shout outs…happy birthday to my brother Justice and Jarrod, lots of love to Stephen <3, a ton of love to my aunt, my uncle, and my mom. Of course, to my fellow exchangers and this fall’s outbound group (congrats – how’s the language going? are you keeping in contact with us of us who are in your countries??) To Sean and Triscuit, and most importantly my dog. Oh yeah, also to Al Kalter and my amazing Rotary Club of Orange Park Sunrise!!!

April 24 Journal

OK, so here’s yet another journal. This will be short and sweet. I promise.

WARNING: broken English ahead!

Part two from the other one: Right after getting better after my bout with parasites, my mom decided we should take a vacation. So we made the two hour drive to what is my favorite city in the entire world…..Baños!! (not “bathrooms´´ for those of you who know Spanish but aren’t familiar with Ecuador). I fell in love right away (I talk as though I haven’t used this phrase to describe every experience this part year…). The city is situated right next to the active volcano Tunguragua…southeast of my city, Latacunga. The climate is moderately hot, which is the type of weather that I have been pining for since I first left Florida to come to the Andes Mountains. It’s a very popular tourist city, though it keeps the small city charm.

My wonderful host mother, wanting to make up for my two weeks sick, decided we would do everything possible on the trip. And she kept her word. One of the first things we did was rent four-wheelers with my brother and tour around the city on our own. Then a tour of the numerous waterfalls, all of which were breathtakingly gorgeous. At night we took a tour of the city on Chiva (double-decker bus), which took us to a beautiful lookout point on the side of the mountain. I don’t think riding a bus has ever been so much fun!! (my brother and I rode on top like crazy people). The next morning we went white water rafting, and after that, we rented horses and just saw some more of the city (we actually did a lot more, but for the sake of keeping it short, I’m not going to go into detail).

That trip with my mom and host brother was my first time to Baños, but has not been my last. Because it’s only about three hours away and the bus there only costs $2 maximum, I have been more than three times since then. And it continues to be my favorite city in all of Ecuador.

We got back to Lata late on a Sunday night, already with plans to travel to Quito the following morning, as my mom needed to do some work at the University, and I just happen to like Quito quite a bit.

Unfortunately, like any time that I have plans to do something, a strike happens. So that Monday at twelve in the morning, the indigenous people declared a strike, blocking all major highways in five provinces here in the sierra. Which is fine for bigger cities, like Quito, but in the smaller cities you begin to run out of food after a while, as the farms are usually located outside of the city, and no food supply can enter. The strike of Monday was started because the government promised money for certain projects over two years ago, but never gave it (I assume it has to do with the drastic changes in presidents, but you know…). Another strike started that Tuesday, against the TLC (free trade with the states), which really didn’t change much, just made the protests a touch more violent. Wednesday morning the mayors of some of the cities here in Cotopaxi took a helicopter to Quito and declared a hunger strike to show that they can complete their goals without help from any indigenous people. Thursday there were protests against the TLC, mainly from dignitaries and the sort, and most of our Rotary Club marched as well. I’m not sure which one ended, and which one was only temporarily suspended, but both were called off for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday (I used the opportunity to visit friends in Quito), which thankfully allowed food supply back into the city, and some people who had been caught between cities etc. to get where they needed to be. The tourists that had been trapped in Lata were very happy indeed to be able to get out finally.

One restarted the following Monday at midnight. No one knew exactly what they wanted, whether it was about the money or the TLC, but it got pretty violent. Any cars that passed in the roads had their tires slashed, and the Pan-American highway was blocked with burning tires and crowds of very angry people. Finally Thursday afternoon it ended, after nearly two weeks of indigenous strikes and no transportation.

Gotta love those crazy Ecuadorian strikes.

That was a while ago, but even today there continues to be protest marches against the TLC, mostly university students, sometimes the indigenous population, other times the upper class. Eventually everyone seems to join in. I’m not really quite sure how I feel about it. All of the marches and the like are directed towards convincing the government not to sign the TLC, the signing of which would lead to free trade between Ecuador and the states. But a good number of the marches have a quite violent undertone, more of a hatred for Americans and what they represent on a global scale than the actual agreement itself. So that leaves me pretending to be either Ecuadorian or German, whichever happens to be more believable at the moment. It’s not that my safety is ever in danger, as it’s a very tranquil city, but it’s always better not to test the limit of tolerance. Especially that of angry strangers. You know.

After the strikes ended I think I made a good three or four trips to Quito to a) spend time with my most wonderful host mother that I sometimes swear I adore more than life itself, b) to bask in the big city life that I was once so accustomed to, but now translates into me gawking in awe at racial diversity and pharmacies that are big enough to walk into…and c) spending time with Jade, one of my very best friends here in Ecuador, which consequently means having an amazing time and eating a ton of shawarma´s. I <3 Jade!

Even though I’d love to write more about my adventures in Quito…I’m keeping my promise…short and sweet. On to Galapagos!

So, on March 31st all the kids from the sierra and the people closer to Quito than Guayaquil met in the airport. And even though it’s the national airport of the capital city, its not nearly big enough for exchange students…especially keeping in mind how much we pack. It is always such an emotional rush to see everyone…I don’t think anyone truly knows the meaning of the word emotional rush like an exchange student. Airports are not meant for this type of gathering…I’ll tell you that right now. Luggage heaped in a giant pile, crying people hugging each other, running towards one another…to anyone else I’m sure we look like lunatics.

The flight was delayed a good two hours (after all this IS Ecuador…it wouldn’t be right if anything happened at the scheduled time…it would break some unwritten law – hell might freeze over or something equally un-natural). Luckily it was only a 32 minute flight into Guayaquil. Flying in was quite impressive. The coast is in its rainy season right now, and I kid you not when I saw the entire thing seemed to be covered in water from the view of the plane….the ground was just shiny….rivers blended into everything else. We got off the plane, and not only was it as hot as blazes, it was so humid it felt like I was breathing in pure water. Crazy stuff. We did the strip down to the least amount of clothes necessary routine, and entered the airport, where we met up with the other half of the exchangers. Another emotional frenzy.

Then we all boarded onto the plane, and a short hour and 45 minutes later, about 100 teenagers from around the world set foot on the famous Galapagos Islands for the first, and most likely last, time of their lives. As amazing and impressive as that looks in writing…it was more like a “hey, were in Galapagos dudes…sweet´´ type of deal. Having already shedded extra clothing…we had nothing much to do except continue talking. In a short amount of time we had paid our entrance into the islands (as the entire thing is one giant national park), and gathered our luggage. It was pretty cool, one of the first things I noticed was a giant iguana just kind of chilling in the baggage area. Very Galapagos.

We then took a bus ride, a ferry ride, and another bus ride to the hotel on Santa Cruz Island. As we arrived late afternoon that first day, the only thing that we had time to do was go to the Charles Darwin national park. You know, where they keep all the giant tortoises for safe keeping. Lol, but we did see some really huge tortoises, some up to 140 years old, over four feet in length. Meaning that they were there when Charles Darwin was. Which is pretty amazing if you ask me. However, I am positive that I learned more about tortoises than I would ever want to know in my life.

That night we ate dinner, and just walked around the island. Two things struck me at once. No graffiti whatsoever. And all the vehicles seemed to be white trucks. The first was just weird, because every city in Ecuador that I know of is pretty much full of graffiti, and well, what type of place has only white trucks. It wasn’t until later that I found out that both the taxis and the police use white trucks, and because of the abundance of police, no graffiti. Sweetness.

The next morning we all woke up god awful early and ate breakfast, divided into six groups, and headed out to do our respective activities for the day. My group headed to Tortuga Bay. It was quite a walk, but well worth it. The sand on the beach was pure white with a texture similar to that of flour. The water was blue blue, and mostly clear. The first beach we visited was La Playa Brava, literally, the angry beach. At first we were limited to only taking photos, but when we went to the second beach the tide was too low to go swimming, and therefore we swam at the angry beach. Angry indeed. I have never seen waves so big (except for Florida during hurricane season). I got thoroughly roughed up by the waves and the current, and gave up to sunning a little bit. Which, looking back, I shouldn’t have done without a full body suit because I got burned burned burned, even with spf 75 sun block that I put on like it was going out of style. It was gorgeous. We headed back to the hotel for lunch, and then afterwards we went lava walking, and learned a whole bunch of history about the islands and how they were formed. End day two

Day three. You couldn’t pry me out of bed with a crow bar, being burnt and exhausted form the sun. I didn’t go to breakfast, but afterwards I finally got up long enough to be coerced into going cliff diving with the group. We took a short bus ride, then walked quite a ways, climbing rocks until we eventually wound up at the cliffs. In between the cliffs was a pool of crystal clear water that had filtered in from the ocean. It was so clear you could see the rocks way down at the bottom. Meaning it made it that much more scary when we climbed to various points on the wall of the cliff and dived into the water. A very big adrenaline rush, and the cold water felt great for the burn. After scaring ourselves silly for a sufficient amount of time, we took a bus ride to the coast and got onto a smallish boat. We were issued snorkeling gear, and much like you always see on TV, we dropped off backwards into the ocean. The first place we snorkeled was on the shore of a small rock island, we didn’t see too much as the water was deep, but we did see a bunch a schools of fish and an giant manta ray hiding in a hole. Fun stuff. We spent a bit of time there, then headed to another rock island, were the snorkeling was, in simple terms FREAKING WONDERFUL. Jade and I got caught up looking at a school of rainbow fish, then a blow fish, and then a giant manta ray feeding on the bottom. In the middle of this, a shark swam up, and while we were warily watching it, we got the bejeezus scared out of us by a rogue sea lion that dived right in front of us. The rest of the day was spent trying to catch photos of the amazing marine wildlife, and once again at night we toured the island.

Day four…We took an incredibly long bus ride, then got on a larger boat than the day before, heading off to Seymour island. The guide took us onto the island, showing us the different species of birds, including the all so famous blue-footed boobies. It was very interesting to see the mating dance, and how they incubate the eggs. We also saw more land iguanas, and my favorite, the Fragata birds. They have these huge red sacs on their necks that they inflate to attract females. Interesting. It kind of looks like a heart when its inflated and their beak is down. Hmmm. I liked the random sea lions just lazing about. They smell bad, really bad, just warning you. Like awful bad. Ok moving on. Once again we were issued snorkel gear. We hit the SNORKELING JACKPOT. We seriously were swimming alongside of a good 15 sea lions or so. It’s so funny how curios they are, they swim right up to your face, and then dive down. It seemed like they were playing with us. It was a photographer’s dream, all these sea lions in clear water doing flips, playing with each other. One I found was particularly peculiar. I was adjusting the mask above water and I noticed a pair of sea lion feet just poking out of the water. I looked down below the surface and there was the little baby sea lion just chilling upside down, staring right back at me. I seized the opportunity, took the picture, and the second the button clicked, the little dude did a crazy flip and swam away, like he had been waiting for someone to take a picture of him. How odd. At night we had a buffet style dinner, ate our selves silly, and packed.

Day five. We left very early in the morning en route back to the airport. On the way we stopped to see Los Gemelos “the twins´´, two very large craters caused by seismic activity. Very cool indeed. After that we got to the airport, loaded on the plane, that of course took off late, and flew into Guayaquil where we said the first round of our messy goodbyes. Then to Quito, where round number two took place. The goodbyes are always hard, but get harder with every trip that we go one, reminding us that our days our numbered. A lot of people broke down saying goodbye to Eric, who won’t be on the last trip, therefore meaning he was saying his final goodbye’s to most people. It didn’t bother me too much, he lives in my city. It was kind of like “bye dude, see you tomorrow´´. And that was my Galapagos trip.

What else?

A day after getting back from Galapagos, we found out that we would be switching host families the next day. Gotta love my Rotary Club and their talent for giving us a little warning… So, after breaking the news to my family, bawling like a baby, and procrastinating till five in the morning by talking with my host parents, I began the long process of packing.

I just couldn’t make myself start. Every time I would go to fold a shirt or bring out the suitcases, I would just cry, realizing that the next time I would pack would be my last. My host mom was more upset than I was, angry at the Rotary Club for making us change a month earlier then expected, angry that they didn’t let us know until a day before the change, heartbroken that I was leaving the house, just upset with the world.

My host brother and sister cried a lot when I told them that I was leaving, but like always my host dad was the rational voice of the family, explaining that in life, not everything goes how you would want it to, and although I would be missed by that family, I would be equally welcomed in the next family. So, with these words of wisdom, we made it a family project to pack my bags, talking about all the good times we have shared over the past three months, telling jokes, mutually comforting one another. We all passed out in my room, waking up the next afternoon. My mom headed to work, my brother and sister to the last couple hours of school, leaving me in a blank room with nothing to show for my past three months except two packed suitcases and two carry on bags, and my backpack full of books. As Eric was the next one to come to the house, I kindly left a Canada flag on the wall, and knowing his odd hunger attacks in the middle of the night, I left a drawer full of crackers and cookies and the like. It was the least that I could do. I also kindly put pink sheets on the bed, but I’m pretty sure my host dad changed those before Eric got there. Darn it.

The rest of the day passed by with a melancholy feel, waiting the hour when my chairman would come to the house, I would choke back tears, saying my goodbyes, or better yet, my see you later’s, and I would be whisked away to my next house. My chairman said he’d be there at four, meaning that at ten till seven he showed up. And that’s how it went. We chatted with my chairman for a long while, waiting for my mom to get home, and I choked out my goodbye’s, crying ridiculously hard for someone moving only ten minutes away, but it felt so much like the real goodbye that I know I’ll be saying in a few short months. And just like that, I was off to my next house.

Luckily, I already new the family, all except my host brother who returned from his exchange to the states early. But it is always awkward arriving at a new house with all your belongings and being like `here I am, there you are, this is my house now….´.

So, around eight at night, I arrived at the house. It was raining outside, which had some kind of poetic justice to it. My chairman drug my luggage inside, made polite conversation and high tailed it out of there. His wife is pregnant and the baby is due anytime, so I don’t blame him one bit. I spent a little time getting to know my host mom and host brother and sister, waiting for my dad and other brother to arrive home. It went nice, we went over the first night questions, and then we all headed to bed.

My new family is really sweet. I have a dad, Byron, mom Nancy, little brother, Nico (6), little sister, María de los Ángeles (12), and older brother Byca (18). My dad is the owner and founder of one of the biggest hardware store chains here in Ecuador, meaning my parents are unbelievably loaded. The house is only two years old, three stories, a yard and tennis court. It has like six or seven bedrooms, an equal number of bathrooms, and random other living rooms, dining rooms, entertaining rooms. You know. It’s a little further from the main part of the city than I’d like, but still within walking distance. My host brother automatically made me feel right at home, inviting me to go out with him and his friends, joining a kickboxing class with me, stuff like that. My little brother and sister drag me out of bed to play in the morning if I don’t get up early enough for them. My host parents are really intelligent and understanding people. I wish I saw more of them, but I don’t because they work every day from eight in the morning till eight at night, coming home for lunch of course.

I thought it might be kind of awkward entering an already full family, but it wasn’t like that at all. I guess the only thing that bothers me is that even though I’ve already been there for almost three weeks, my room has no furniture, only a bed and a nightstand, meaning I am still living out of suitcases. I’m not quite sure what the deal with that is, but I’m getting used to it at least.

Easter came and was oddly disappointing. We went to my grandmothers and ate rabbit. I wasn’t sure how to go about eating it with my hands, so I looked to my aunt as an example. Bad idea. Right when I looked over, my aunt was busy sucking the brains out of the skull. Yummy. The day was spent sharing stories, drinking beer, and playing ecuavolly with my grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters. It was a lot of fun, but didn’t feel like Easter. You win some and you lose some. It’s not like I knew how to explain what chocolate bunnies and colored eggs have to do with Easter either….lol

My recent adventures have been, as usual, going to Quito to visit Jade. It’s always a lot of fun, but the bigness of Quito never ceases to amaze me. It’s so dangerous at times, at least compared to my tranquil Latacunga. It shocks me the amount of crime sometimes, but part of being an exchange student is knowing how to judge situations and how to avoid the bad ones. So I’ve been lucky so far. A lot of other exchangers haven’t been. It comes down to knowing your surroundings, expecting the unexpected, and hanging out with the right crowd. While in Quito, I hit my eight month mark, meaning I only had three months left. Crazy stuff.

English is a continuing battle. I feel like I should start practicing, or something, before I get home otherwise I’ll get the same odd looks from people back in the states that I got from people here when I first arrived. Oh well. Um, no school today, so I headed to Volcán Libro, a great little bookstore slash café that I have been going to religiously since September. The owner, Lalo, is a really great guy and a close friend, and we often find ourselves talking about great poets and authors from around the world, about politics. Today we got started up on something about the TLC (free trade with the states) which is by far, the biggest political issue in Ecuador right now. Side note: I have noticed that you can always tell what the big political issues are by the graffiti that covers every square inch of this country. Things about the TLC is plastered everywhere!. Anyway, we get to talking, and next thing I know we are doing a radio talk show about it. I’m not quite sure how I got suckered into it, but I was so proud after I had finished. The radio show guy mistook me as someone from Cuenca (city in Ecuador), and I didn’t disagree. Fun stuff.

It astounds me that I have less than three months left. That’s a matter of weeks, not months. And it absolutely kills me that Eric, my best guy friend here in Ecuador, is leaving to go back to Canada the fourth of May. That’s a matter of days. He is one of the most genuine people that I have ever met in my life, and will be greatly missed. But, that’s the way life is. Things end, things change. And the entire reason that he’s leaving early, is to go climb the seven summits of the world. So I suppose it’s a worthy cause. Crazy Canadians.

So, considering that I only have eighty something days left!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is where I leave you guys.

Con Amor

Taj

PS: lots of love to everyone stateside and good luck to all the outbounds!!!!

May 19 Journal

OK….so here’s the deal guys. I have pretty much no time to write, but the next month of my time is going to be chock full of Ecuador fun, so if I don’t update my Rotary journal this very instant, it is entirely possible that I will never actually get around to it. So, here goes nothing.

When I wrote the last time, I had just gotten back from Galapagos and switched host families. Man, I have A LOT of updating to do. Damn me and my infernal procrastinating. And my English sucks. Fun fun. Here we go.

Ok, so the 25th of April I headed to the Paz house, to spend time with my old host brother Francisco who came back from Argentina a little bit early. It was so amazing to spend time with the family, and it was a complete and total surprise that Fran was there because when I said goodbye to him the last time, I thought it would be forever. Or at least longer than five months. But I am by no means complaining. It’s always a weird feeling, going back to an old host family to visit. To me it feels much like I imagine going back to Florida will feel like. An old sense of familiarity, but you can’t quite remember where they keep the spoons. You know. Anyway, I stayed until late that night, catching up with the family and just generally having a good time.

Early the next morning I headed back to the Paz family, as they had invited me to come and help plant artichokes. It was one of the best `homecomings´ that I could ask for. I miss working on the farm with my host parents, fixing the tractors with my host siblings. So, working side by side with them planting artichokes was the perfect way for me to spend time with them. Between my host dad, Fran, me, and the workers, we planted about 8000 artichoke plants. Of course I got completely and totally covered with mud and dirt, my back hurt from being bent over for hours, and I was dead exhausted when we finished. The absolute perfect day. And I say that with utmost sincerity.

The next thing I knew is that it was the 28 of April, and I was crying my goodbyes once again to Francisco at some god-awful early hora of the morning. It didn’t seem real. My old host father and I waited until well after his flight had left to leave the airport. I just kept expecting that he’d come walking back out, say it was a joke. But of course that never happened. I cried on the way to my dad dropping me off, while I tried to remember where Jade lived. I didn’t remember, wound up having breakfast with my Paz host dad and sister, and then we found Jade’s house, a good two hours later than when I told her I’d be there. Oh well. It is Ecuador, these things are ok.

After that, I spent time with family and friends in Lata. Mostly Eric. We bought some fabric and what not and got him a guitar case sown. We found the only wooden light post in all of Latacunga, it reeked of dog urine, but we were both so surprised that we hadn’t noticed before that I took a picture. In fact, I think I took a picture of everything we did those couple days, wanting to document to my fullest capacity his last days in Ecuador, and more importantly, his last days with me. I helped him pack, because I am the master packer. He gave me a lot of stuff, Canada paraphernalia, clothes, random books and movies. He wound up having one suitcase, two guitars, a backpack, and a churango to take home with him. Fun stuff.

He left early to get to Quito and do the last minute things that he had to do. So it wasn’t until the 3rd of May that Ashley and I made our way to Quito in bus. It was a very solemn ride, neither of us said very much. I stayed at Jade’s house that night, like whenever I am in Quito. At four the next morning Jade and I took a cab to the airport, where we met up with all the other people that had traveled from all over Ecuador to say goodbye to Eric. You know, because in all honesty, he is the coolest guy ever.

Most of us started crying as soon as we saw him there. Others managed to hold out until right before he left. But, for the most part, I bawled from the second I saw him there with his luggage. He didn’t actually leave until around six thirty, so we each said our goodbyes over and over again. He signed his Canada handkerchief and gave it to me. “Tajah, taj, size/slice. Whatever. Anyway you’re way too cool and smart to hang out with a hippie like me. I love you and I always will. Maybe you’ll see me again, for being too cool. Kick those engineer’s a**es. I love you. Tu Eric.´´

I have said some really hard goodbyes this year. I have made it through things that I never thought that I could have before. I have done amazing things, difficult things. I have grown and matured a lot. But when he left, I wasn’t sure if I would ever stop crying. And it was a long time before I finally could, and even then, the only way I could make myself stop was by reminding myself that he would never want me to cry over a `hippie´ like him. That as soon as reality set in for him, that he would be doing his own crying, and he would need someone to be strong for him. So, eventually I stopped. But I’m going to go ahead and say it:

Eric, I miss you, I love you, you’re one of a kind, and things aren’t the same without you here.

I never had thought that the day would come. But it did, and it passed. And now its some foggy memory, like a bad dream. Saying goodbye to someone who has been your best friend for a year, who has been by your side for the good and the bad is never easy, and it never will be.

I stayed a couple more days with Jade in Quito. One of the nights I went to a reggae concert (Alma Rasta) with some very good friends of mine, and thoroughly enjoyed myself, despite Eric’s absence. Afterwards, somehow, I met the friends of a friend, who all just so happened to be street performers, jugglers, flame-swallowers, that type of deal thing. They truly are some of the most genuine people I have ever met in my life, and I had a great time talking with them.

It was so interesting to me, like it always is, how people can find their niche in a society like the one of Ecuador. There are no jobs, so they make their own. They find some talent or passion and that is how they earn money to live, to eat. I always wonder, how do people decide what they are going to do for a living? Do they wake up one day and be like: I’m going to be a juggler when I grow up. Or, I am going to sell gum to win my bread. It’s so different from how things in the states are, where everyone pretty much goes to school, most go to college, and the majority of people get normal jobs working for some company or another somewhere. But I suppose that different societies force people to develop differently.

Before, I’m not really sure how I felt about street performers. It’s different, because here I live with the richest of the rich who tend to look down on the poor. But at the same time, no matter how prejudiced they may be, no matter how much they might influence my thinking on the world, no one can change MY views, MY sense of what is right and wrong, good and bad in the world. Yeah, sure, the little things might change, but my core feelings, my core judgments can never be altered. Because, in reality, that is who I am. I was brought up to never discriminate based on color, creed, religion, or anything like that, but rather to judge people by the character of their heart, of who they truly are, not what society has made them to be.

And although, in this society of mine that I live in Ecuador, I was more out of place than ever…a white girl from the upper class with natives from a lower social class, with people of the street, talking and laughing into the night…although that may be unheard of here, I have never felt more comfortable with a group of people. Have never admired a group of individuals so much. Have never felt more respect for someone. And it reminded me of who I truly am inside. And it was a good feeling. And, I swear to god, Carlos, if I ever have the opportunity, I will buy you that accordion.

After getting back to Lata, life was pretty normal. My host family is really sweet, but after five weeks of not having furniture, of my host parents not getting home till almost nine at night every night, of five weeks of spending time alone in the house with the maids or with friends, I was very very frustrated with my living situation. I think it would have been different if any member of the family was ever home. But between my parents and brothers working, my other siblings’ school, violin lessons, tennis lessons, karate, they are literally never home. And although being with friends and outside of the house is ok, I would get so depressed just going home to a continually empty house, to a room with no furniture and no curtain. This isn’t how an exchange student should spend their last bit of time in their host country. It’s a horrible feeling, and it was made worse by the fact that in spite of me attempting to talk with my host parents or chairman about it, nothing worked. My parents were never home till late, meaning we would eat dinner and they would head to bed, and my chairman’s wife just gave birth to a baby boy, so his time is tied up between two kids and work. The talk that I had planned down to the very last words never happened despite the attempts I made. And each day, I felt a little worse and worse, more in despair.

So, I got to thinking. I was determined to get myself out of the funk that I was in. And staying out of the house as much as possible was not an option. I had to do something that would make me feel ok with being at home. I decided that the only true thing that I had control over was the furniture and curtain thing. It wasn’t like I could change my parents or siblings schedules, so it was the furniture thing that I decided to dwell on for a bit. I think it’s a very universal subject, that when people have a little place to call their own, to put their stuff, they can adapt to any environment. At least it’s true for the states and Ecuador, and that’s what matters in my personal situation.

I was appalled that my family hadn’t provided anything for me after a month and a half of being in the house. And even more than that, they had made some sarcastic comments like ´oh, what beautiful furniture you have´, things like that. But any time I asked about it, they said that the furniture would get there the next day. I mean, I understood that their son had come home early from exchange and that they had to put me in the room where the maids had been. I thought about it for a long time to see if it was me who wasn’t adapting to the situation, maybe if it was my American culture not understanding the Ecuadorian culture. But when you are in a house where everyone has their own TV, own stereo, own walk-in closet, own everything, where even the maids have furniture and other commodities, it doesn’t seem to be part of the culture to put the exchange student in a bare room. I made sure that I had a right to be upset, that I wasn’t crossing some cultural line by being upset. And I wasn’t. I was right. It wasn’t fair to me to make me live like that. I would have been fine if they had at least explained to me what was going on, that they understood that it wasn’t ok, but rather they seemed to be mocking my situation. So I had no idea what to do

In this culture, what you would normally do is wait for someone to come build the furniture. And in Ecuador, these things can evidently take a while. But that was obviously not doing anything but make me feel miserable in my own house, so I decided to think outside of the box. I figured if I couldn’t solve the problem with this culture, I would solve it with another culture, and I started thinking what I would do if I was back at home. And it struck me. Back home, I would never wait for someone to do something for me, I would do it myself. So that’s what I did.

Ashley and I went to the local supermarket, asked for some empty cardboard boxes, and I made myself furniture. Something to store my school stuff and books in, something for shoes, and something for clothes. It wasn’t much, just a couple of little things that would make me feel like the house I was living in was my home. I decorated them with wrapping paper left over from Christmas, and lined everything with tissue paper. And in my opinion, they looked really nice. So it wasn’t like I was bringing dirty cardboard boxes into the house, but rather some really spiffy furniture. I was very proud, very happy. I hung a blanket that I had over the window, having been more than fed up with not having a window covering on a window that overlooks not only what might be the brightest street light in the world, but also the driveway, the maid’s room, and the side yard. And all was good.

My host dad commented about it, he thought it was a clever idea. My host mom was not happy by any standards. That night, she took the measurements of the room, made a single phone call, and the very next day, I had real furniture in the room. Which was fine by me, though it really really made me wonder what had taken so long in the first place. She made me take my blanket down, saying it made the room too dark. Which was the point, I can’t sleep with a light shining in through the window. But whatever. The morning when the workers came to install the furniture, I went to Quito for Jade’s old host families Grandma’s birthday party, because, when I spent time there, the grandma and I got along super well, and she invited me to come to the party. So I went.

I got back in the afternoon, only to find twenty dollars and a ring missing, my stuff an absolute mess in the closet. Like clothes and lotions had been put in the same drawer, shampoo and books. Everything was a mess, and I had to go through and clean all of my stuff. Some is ruined, some is gone. Not a fun thing to come home to. I politely confronted my parents about it, they pretty much blamed me. The conversation escalated to the point where they told me that the only reason I was in the house was because of a personal favor to my chairman, that they would prefer not to have any exchange students in the house, this that and the other thing. They were not nice, at all, and I felt even worse than before. And on top of that, when I mentioned the furniture deal, they said that it shouldn’t be an issue, that it is my responsibility to adapt to wherever I am, not them to me. Which is true, and I understand that. But some things are over the line. There are bare minimums in any culture that should be complied with.

The next day was mother’s day. They didn’t invite me to breakfast; I said good morning and was met with silence. When we left to go to my grandma’s house, they sent the maid to my window to tell me they were leaving. They were all outside in the car, and the house was already all locked up and the alarm set. And that’s how two days passed. They never said one word to me, no matter what I said to them, what questions I asked. I would come home from school, and the maid would not serve me lunch unless I asked. Which is not normal, because my place at the table is usually set and the food waiting for me. I would get home to an empty kitchen, nothing on the table, no food in sight. So, once again I felt even worse than before.

In fact, my parents didn’t talk to me until I called my chairman over to mediate. My host mom pretty much yelled at me, my chairman took her side, meanwhile my host dad apologized to me, and defended me from both of them. My chairman brought up that I hadn’t been to school in a couple days, and my mom yelled at me over that. Meanwhile, my dad brought up the fact that the inspector from school had told me not to come to school that week, because classes were almost over and everyone was taking exams. It just got uglier and uglier, my mom being in reality very petty, and my dad being more realistic and keeping my mom’s story to what really happened. A horrible night overall. Nothing was solved, and everyone went to bed in a bad mood.

Went to school the next day to check with the inspector, he told me once again that even though it was really nice to see me, that I didn’t need to be there. So yeah.

One of those nights I talked to my parents. I waited until they got home, had eaten, and somehow intercepted them before they went to bed. As politely and as diplomatically as I could, I explained to them absolutely everything. I apologized for the incident of the other night, even though I didn’t think I did anything wrong. I told them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I talked and talked. I reminded them that even though their son is home, it doesn’t mean that I’m not here. That it’s not fair to me to spend so much time alone. That it makes it difficult that they aren’t home, that they live far away from everything, that they only have a laptop in the house that they take to work with them everyday. That it will just be harder in the weeks to come because they have family arriving, I have things to do, I have my Rotary trip, the day after I get back from the trip my dad and my older brother are going to the world cup in Germany, meaning my mom will be working even more. That my last month here in the country will be spent completely alone. That that isn’t how I had hoped to spend my last little bit of time. I talked for a long time, and they agreed with me. They understood what I was going through, and agreed that their house is not a good house for me to be in. SO that made me feel at least a little better. That after two months of not being understood of feeling alone, that someone finally understood me.

I talked with my chairman, after hunting him down over a period of days, about the possibility of me switching families. He didn’t seem keen on the idea. I insisted, and so did my host family, and there have been more than a couple times when he said he would call me or come to my house to talk that he just hasn’t called or shown up. I understand that he is very busy and that he has a life outside of Rotary, but at this point in my year when I am pressed for time, I expect more from my chairman. And it’s not like they ever issued me a new counselor after mine quit back in October. So. Once, again, am I stuck between a rock and a hard place. Right now, I face the option of hoping for another host family soon and only spending at most three weeks with them, or which is what’s going to more than likely happen, spending my last month in Ecuador alone.

But, this year is about adapting, and even though it royally sucks, I am stronger than that, and I have gotten to the point where I am ok with being alone in a house, being without family. It is not ideal, but the way I figure it, it will make the transition to back home easier. So, like usual, there’s a silver lining to every cloud.

So that’s that deal. I am sorry to write so much, but hey, people home should know what’s going on this side of the world.

What else is new? The times that I have gone to school, my classmates are overwhelmed to see me, and the inspector usually pulls me out of class to talk to him, to do whatever, and more than often tells me to `go out and enjoy the country my last month rather than sitting in school´.

Here is some exciting news. The American doctors are here again. There are only three of the same guys as last time, but they were my favorite three, so all is well. It’s a much bigger group this time, literally five tons of supplies, and the doctors are spread out between two hospitals. I have no idea how many procedures that they will do, but only a handful of them speak Spanish, so my help is very welcomed and needed. Plus, due to the last time I helped with the doctors, I have a much better comprehension of medical equipment and knowledge. They arrived this morning, and since then we have been unpacking and sorting, and doing consults. We finished early today, giving me the time to write this journal, but the surgeries start at 8 tomorrow morning, and they will be super busy until the 28th when they leave. Corey, a really amazing nurse tech whatever from California, who was also on the last trip, definitely brought me like ten pounds of gummy bears. <3

So, I’ll be busy with the doctors until the 28th. From the 28th of this month until June 4th I will be on my Rotary trip to the south. June fifth my host brother and dad leave. And my flight home is the 23rd of June. It breaks my heart that I only have a month left. It breaks my heart even more, because I had had a date in mid July confirmed and ready, but due to the time frame that my university gives me, I have no other choice but to come home a little early. But it feels like someone just stole a month away from me. Man, today is my nine month mark, and I only have just over a month left. Time flies.

So that’s why I decided to update today, because I will be crazy busy until the day that I leave. Crazy crazy stuff.

So, rather than waste more time here typing away like a maniac, this is where I leave you all. Lots of love to everyone

Taj

PS. <3

August 10 Journal

Ach Österreich!

Well guys I actually did it, I am in Austria. I must say that the hardest part has got to be leaving because that was nearly unbearable. My 1st home is nice, it’s 2 stories and has tons of doors! I have a balcony in my bedroom! I am right in between mountains! It’s beautiful. Everything is so nice and tidy and the town is like a mix between an old village and a new age city. it’s cool. My baggage was lost in Amsterdam… I should get them back today

Wow, guys, all I can say is wow. So many little things are different here… like the bathrooms, the plugs, the keyboard, the doors, THE LANGUAGE!

Well Sonntag (Sunday) I go to a Deutsch (German) Language Camp for 2 weeks. I haven’t met any other people my age yet but I know I will.

 

 

My next host family I go to on September 1st and leave them März something or other.

I was watching TV in German and the funny thing was the good shows they have are all American shows like … Tool time, Hello Holly (or that show that has Amanda Bines in it), and Charmed. It’s funny knowing I once watched it in English.

Everything’s in Celsius here… which is only to be expected. So this morning it was 16° and yesterday I think it was 30°. Soooooooooooo much better than the sweltering heat in Florida… ‘cept for the fact that you can only swim here on a hot day and tanning seems out of the question.

Things I can imagine missing in the future are the beach, swimming, and the carousel in St. Augustine – that’s besides me obviously missing my loved ones … other than those things I think Austria will fit me quite well!

Tschüs! Trish

August 28 Journal

I would love to keep everyone updated! But I cant send pictures until probably the 1st week of September because I am moving around until then and so that is when I will be able to sit down and load the pictures onto the computer.

But I will tell you all that I have never seen anything like this before. For the past two weeks I have been at an awesome German Language Camp where I have met so many wonderful people that I know are going to mean something to me for the rest of my life. I got to know the cities of Gmunden, Altmunster, and Hallstadt. I walked halfway up what I have deemed my favorite mountain in the world and drank water from a pristine waterfall straight from the mountain. I saw what they called “The bone house” (it is basically a room of bones that are decorated because the graveyard got full so they made more room and in order to not disrespect the dead they painted they skulls and put them all in a room to be revered for all time, it’s in Hallstadt). I went to the famous mines of Hallstadt that have been in use for about 7,000 years and so much more.

Today on my way home from the German Language Camp my friend Nick’s (the Canadian who happens to be the only other exchange student staying in the province of Styria along with me, which I find odd because it’s the largest province of Austria by far) host parents took us sightseeing at a monastery! When I walked into it’s actual church my jaw dropped and I had trouble keeping it closed because it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was of the Baroque age and so the architecture was phenomenal. Everything was painted or sculpted to a level I had never known. It was so detailed and most of it was actually GOLD. I wish I could remember the name of the place for you specifically but it seems to have slipped my mind.

Also in a day or two some of my Austrian friends are taking me to Vienna to show me Vienna from the eyes of an Austrian; I cannot wait. Not only that but my host father told me that I could end up taking piano classes throughout the year! I cant think of any better place to learn than Austria. Well I am done ranting about the wonderbar Österreich.

Joyfully,

Trish

October 4 Journal

Some friendly faces, some hesitant ones from the people still too nervous to try and break this communication barrier, but I manage. The teacher tells of the great history of the world from what was once the center of it, my beloved Austria. I am thirsting for the knowledge that is flowing from my Professor’s lips, but I can do nothing but wish that I can catch onto the language as fast as possible (and by the way Austria has two types of language: High German and Dialect).

Austria is so wonderful to me. I know so many people already and I yearn to know them better. As familiar as everything is feeling already I am still so intrigued by its mysteries as to be entertained in my deeper investigations of Austrian life. One of the best feelings I have had lately is when I am walking down the street of a town in which I knew no one a month ago and getting warm greetings along the way. As much as everyone told me that I would grow and learn so much about myself this year I could never really fathom the extreme truth of what they said, but now it is becoming quite clear how much I will learn about myself this year. For those of you thinking about doing exchange, DON’T pass this up! There will never be anything else like this EVER!

Love,

The only Floridian Rotary Youth Exchange student in Austria)#

TRiSH >^..^<

November 5 Journal

Dear my lovely readers,

I find that I truly do love classical music; it affects me in a wondrous way. When I listen to Mozart in his own country in an Austrian music class I feel as though it takes on a whole new meaning and you can understand his melodies all the more.

My favorite part about this time of year is the fact that for the first time in my life I will witness a REAL Autumn. Sometimes I just sit by my window and gaze at the brilliant colors the trees of the Alps are turning. From majestic golds to deep romantic reds, the whole country is slowly changing into a completely different world. Every corner I turn I am greeted by the falling leaves and none of my Austrian friends can quite understand why it fills me with such a genuine joy and why every now and then I just stop and stare at everything around me without so much as a word. It’s clear to me why, of all the places chosen for this Florida girl, Austria was the victor.

Being an exchange student here is something special. Some people think that being a foreigner in a country might hinder one’s ability to makes friends but I find it quite the opposite. They all are so interested in the fact that I came from another country (the USA and Florida no less), don’t speak the language, and I came to the little city of Bruck an der Mur. Not only that but in Austria the exchange students are all very close. We get together at Rotary functions about once a month and sometimes in between. I now have friends from literally all over the world, places such as: Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Ukraine, Turkey, Brazil, and many more. The Rotary Youth Exchange organizational leaders here have met with all of us at Tauplitz and Vienna so far, bringing us together.

Speaking of Tauplitz, I actually saw a snake there! It was crazy because the night after I saw the snake it SNOWED! I saw my very first snow! It was glorious! I never realized how cold and wet it was! I guess I shouldn’t have announced the fact that I was the only one who hadn’t seen it before because everyone then on decided to get me very acquainted with it; like rolling me in it, making me eat it, throwing snowballs at me, and such.

On the subject of Vienna I must say it is a very lovely city. I go there very often actually because it is only two hours away. On my last trip to Vienna (which was with Rotary) we saw the musical Elisabeth, went to the Schönbrunn Zoo (probably the best zoo in the world), and toured all over. My favorite building is a building called the Hundertwasser haus. Hundertwasser is a very famous Austrian architect and artist who designs some crazy looking modern buildings, which I adore. The Hundertwasser haus is like an apartment building in Vienna that I found so attractive I have decided to live there one day (no matter how ugly the inside may be).

I am very glad to be in Austria, which is so centrally located in Europe that taking trips to other countries is barely any kind of a problem. In fact back in September I went with my host father on a trip to visit Ungarn or Hungary. It had a completely different smell to it and this year the mosquitoes were worse than Florida’s mosquitoes. But I still had a great time seeing the country. I went swimming in a natural lake that gets its water from underground and is known for its healing powers because of its high quantity of sulfur. I went on a boat ride on a huge lake and visited tons of vineyards. The best part though was when I went horseback riding for two and a half hours across the Hungarian countryside. It was intense, I have never ridden so hard, so long, or so challengingly in my life.

My Rotary club went on a trip to Italy last week and actually brought Lani (an Australian exchange student) and I along with them! It was a great experience. We went to Trieste and Muggia and saw a ton of things. We went to castles, museums, and other historic landmarks. I got to go shopping in Italy, which is a wonderful experience! The food was delicious. Italy actually kind of reminded me of Florida because it was on the sea and when I saw the seagulls fly by me the first time I almost thought I was back home. There is a distinct difference between the water of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. The Mediterranean is the most beautiful shade of blue green I have ever seen and still so clear you can see right to the bottom! My favorite site in Italy though was on the way home when we stopped at a random old church and just walked around the grounds. Around the church nature seemed to be at its height and there was a breathtaking trail that went along a stream.

I am so glad I have such cool friends here – otherwise my Halloween would have been a terrible time. Halloween is one of the biggest holidays of the year for me back home and I knew that if I didn’t do something for Halloween this year a depression would surely seep in. Luckily my friends held a Halloween party and we even went trick or treating that night (although I don’t think the neighbors liked it too much).

My typical schedule here is pretty good even on an “uneventful” week. On Mondays I go to a dance class where I learn everything from the waltz to the foxtrot and swing dancing. Tuesdays are my piano lessons, which are going along smoothly. I have even finished one song, and am now able to sing and play at the same time, it’s very rewarding. On Wednesdays I travel to Leoben (a neighboring city) where I take German lessons. Thursdays I leave open in case I am invited to Rotary meetings with my host club (which happens about once a month). Of course other than all that I go to school and on the weekends I travel or hang out with my friends in Bruck.

Actually tonight I am going to my first Matura ball. A Matura ball is like what we would consider our prom. There are significant differences though. Here they open it up with a big performance by the graduating class and they even do synchronized dances! Everyone attends these balls who knows anyone in the performance. Instead of just hip hop music and that kind of dancing, here they also do the waltz and other very classy kinds of dancing. I can’t wait. At 5 I have to be at a friend’s house to get ready, it’s nice to be able to do such.

On another note: I know I make most everything here sound so wonderful and like there never is a sad moment; that is just not true. I mean yes the feelings of joy I have had here are so extreme and wonderful, but it’s not all just so. Whatever goes up must come down. I have already experienced “culture-shock” and I am still having whiffs of it here and there. There are times I get extremely homesick, it’s always initiated by something random. Sometimes just a word someone says, something I see, or something on the TV can just make me utterly homesick. At those times I write in my journal, play piano, or anything to get it off my mind. Most of the time the cure-all is just calling a friend and going to hang out with them. Sometimes there are feelings of such self doubt and a loss of control but I think reading the Exchange Student Survival Guide, where it tells you that random bouts of such sad emotions are only normal and will pass, really helps me put things back into perspective. I am not going to lie, being an exchange student if definitely not easy, but it’s worth it all.

Mit Lieber,

That crazy Floridian girl called Trish

PS. I must say that the two best things about Austria are: 1. The Mountains 2. Manner Schnitten (the best sweet in the world, created in our very own Vienna, a perfect combination of Hazelnut crème and wafers!) 🙂

January 14 Journal

Dear Florida and those who flatter me by spending their time reading my journal,

I decided to resort to the most efficient way of updating when such a long time has elapsed and that’s my recent agenda. Also I think this method pertains to some of the feelings I have had lately. This exchange year to Austria has finally made it clear to me that this is not a long vacation. Quite the contrary, I practically have a routine now and am feeling at home. Thus, I find something as familiar to all of us as a date-by-date record of what has been happening in someone’s life expresses the fact that so much of Austria has become so familiar to me. Oh and if I leave out a day it’s not because I forgot it or it got deleted somehow, it’s just that I didn’t write down anything on the day in my agenda and so nothing in particular happened.

>Nov 4th Friday:< I went to school and I really enjoy the sports classes here. Everyone participates and the boys and girls are split up so it’s a much more reasonable way to play sports. Then I went home and sat around until Nadja and Yvonne called me to come with them to this thing called “street talk”. It’s where a small group of umm “interesting” people come together and hang out, it’s an outlet for people who have no one they can really talk to about things, I enjoyed it. Then I went to Yvonne’s house after walking Nadia home. Next we went to a café and played poker, then met with other friends.

>Nov 5th Saturday:< I slept in then when I woke up. I started preparing for the Matura ball later that night. I went to my friend Ruby’s house for all of us girls to get ready and then we met up with some more people, then off to the ball! It was a fun time. There were synchronized dances and a midnight performance for everyone.

~Sundays seem to have become my sleep days, my one day of rest in the 7 day week and it works out nicely because in Austria on a Sunday barely anything is open. The only thing I know for sure that’s open is the church!

>Nov 8th Tuesday:< I had school and piano, then I went to the city with some friends and on the way home I ran into another friend who I really needed to see and I went with her to her flat and got some stuff I had left at her house and sat there drinking tea and having an in depth conversation that lasted hours, all about life and religion and love and so much more.

~Lately I seem to be very tired. And always aware of the need to manage the money I have because there is so much to do here and so one has to be sure that they don’t spend money when it is better spent on other things.

>Thursday the 10th:< I went to school and then after school my host mother and her friend Evelin took me to a spa! It was so sweet; they have a lot of this sort in Austria it appears. It’s basically like massive hot swimming pools that every 15 minutes have bubbles like a hot tub… ok so it’s like giant hot tub you can swim in. It feeeeels sooooo good. We spent hours and hours there. There was a sauna and a deep concentration music room and 4 different areas of swimming to choose, one it 32°C, one is like 36 or 39°, another is regular cold water to be used in the summer, and then one for kids but anyone can go in it (it has a slide and a whirlpool and it’s sweet!). It’s a great retreat from the cold that is settling in.

>Friday the 11th:< I had lunch with Martina and Evelin (Who is a close friend of Martina’s and is to watch over me whenever my host parents are out of town for some reason unavailable). After lunch I went to the city with Sabrina and Steffy to see the MartiniMarkt (a once of year kind of small festival where tiny shops all line up along a certain street and sell weird things). Then I went with Peter to a church meeting! It was similar to the small youth groups back home and all who were there were Protestant, although not Baptist they were the closest you could find anywhere near here. After that I went home, then Marina called me and asked me to come out to the city, so I did. I had a great night, I love Marina, she’s loads of fun and her friends all seem very nice.

Loneliness is officially the archenemy of the exchange student. We are all susceptible to the random depressive feelings that it stirs up in us. But we are also responsible for understanding it will pass.

>Nov 14th -17th:< I went to Evelin’s house for the first time. Then I went to dance (where we learned the tango this week), had my fantastic piano lessons, and a German course that went well. I started going to volleyball training for the beginners on Thursdays (it’s tough work but very fun).

>Nov 18th – 20th:< Reese spent the weekend with me. All day Friday I spent with Reese and two Australians (Penny and Elyce). This weekend was my closest oldie friends’ Matura ball (Lani, Aussie). So they all came in for the weekend. Reese and I spent Friday watching movies and Saturday too until the Matura ball. It was nice and a bit crazy. The performance went very well. Reese and I nonetheless left early and went back home to make grilled cheese’s with turkey dipped in ketchup (try It before you turn away from this post in disgust, they do it a lot in Austria) and watched more movies. Sunday Reese went home and I rested. The 7th day I like turning into a day of rest (keep the Sabbath holy!).

>Nov 21st-24th:< Monday was a pretty relaxing day. As soon as I was home I just read a book ALL day long (Looking for Alibrandi). Tuesday I went to school, had piano practice, and Sabrina came over. We watched The Sound Of Music and had a good time as usual. I really enjoy the random days Sabrina and I just sit around teaching each other everything from piano songs (of which I can now play The Pink Panther) and languages. Wednesday (23rd) I did the usual school and German course bit but then I left German Course early because Sabrina called me and invited me to see Harry Potter played in English at the cinema in Leoben (which is the city where I have my German Course), so of course I went! I had been dying to see it! Thursday was a lazy day (I just hung out with Elias, Tops, and Elias’s Brother).

>Nov 25th Friday:< I went with Elias and his punk friends to a Punk Rock concert that was playing in Graz (a city 30 minutes south of here). I knew everyone in the band Tint fax personally! They all performed really well! It was a great concert for sure. We even caught a ride home and didn’t have to ride the train.

>Saturday Nov 26th:< Today was my school’s Matura ball, I went. I went home early though because I had been having a terribly homesick day and just needed to sleep.

Thanksgiving and the time around it in America so far has been my worst time. You’d think that Christmas would be the worst but for me it was Thanksgiving. Perhaps it was because they don’t celebrate it here (understandably) or the fact it was the kick off for the holiday season. Regardless I just had to stick it out and eventually the festivities of the Austrian Christmas season wept me off my feet.

>Nov 27th:< I stayed home all day, slept, ate, and watched movies.

>Nov 28th to 1st of December:< Monday I stayed home feeling not too good so Evelin came over to try and help out (it was so sweet of her). At this point we have gotten pretty close. She teaches me German and I teach her English. We do little riddles that are in the newspaper together and have a nice time. She even told me to call her my 2nd Austrian mother! Tuesday was fairly normal. Piano school then Sabrina came over and we had our usual good time. Wednesday I finally got my Visa all straightened out so I can stay for while here in Austria. OK Thursday (1st) I for my Host family and Evelin to make up for all the cooking they had been doing for me. Then that night I went to Volleyball with Sabi (Sabrina).

>Dec 2nd to the 4th:< Friday after school and sport I just went home and spent time with my host family. (I was invited to my friend’s concert but I just didn’t have the energy and money). Saturday my host mother went with me gift shopping for Christmas in Bruck an der Mur and Kapfenburg. After shopping I stayed home the rest of the night (even though everyone else went out including my hosties), I just wanted to relax and start working on the letters and gifts. Sunday Siglinde and her Husband (my favorite local Rotarians) picked me up and took me to the “Rotary Christmas-Party”. For this even the whole Rotary club of Bruck an der Mur (a bunch of older people and Lani) went to a church in St. Marein and there was some speeches and very nice music played by a group of four young people (one being my old temp. host brother on the viola). It was nice and the church was FREEZING. Then we went to a Gasthaus (restaurant) where we got a four-course meal and four different drinks (in my case water, cola, wine, and champagne). Then I went home and rested.

>Monday Dec 5th (Krampus Tag):< This is the day of the year where at 6:00 in the town centre tons of boys dressed up as “Krampus” (basically they dress as big monsters, anything big, hairy, and scary works) and whip the innocent people of the city on their thighs. It’s kind of like the idea behind Halloween where we dress up to scare away the evil spirits for the harvest (not that that applies anymore), they are the evil spirits and they come and we survive them. I think if you don’t act scared then you’re ok and they wont hit you (unless the boy is just dumb and wants to hit you anyways). The Krampus are like demons and they punish you for being bad by hitting your legs, if you act scared or run or try to avoid the whip then they know that they should hit you. It’s a nice festival to see but I am not particularly fond of it. You do get lots of chocolates and such for the holiday though. There are even St. Nicholas’s running around and giving out candy.

>Dec 6th (St. Nicholas’s Day):< On this day you get some more candy when you wake up if you have been good and coal if you haven’t (here jolly old St. Nick is only a very good man, not Santa Claus). School, Lunch, piano. Then I went to my friend Kathi´s house for a movie day. A group of us just sat around having a good time and watching Bruce Almighty in German. Then I went home and spent time with my host mother, she even gave me a Shiatsu massage! After that some guests (Oswald and his wife, people I know) arrived and I practiced my piano and loved the fact (although I was surprisingly embarrassed) that randomly someone would walk in and listen and tell me how good I am at piano. O I forgot to tell you all that I am learningMad World by Gary Jules on the piano now, along with Silent Night (Stille Nacht), and Joy to the World. So I went to sleep. My letters and package to Florida are already sent out now. €20!!! Wow, and I am not done. Money is certainly tough here.

>Wednesday Dec 7th:< Well it was a long day at school and I did a lot of studying. Then I came home and cooked some food because today my hosties are out and about. I guess I will just practice some piano, some German, and then go to my Deutschkurs in Leoben. Tomorrow and the day after there is no school because tomorrow is a national holiday (Mariä Empfängnis). So I was invited to go to the town with Sabrina and I did. I had a good time chatting it up with all my lovely young little friends. Even being surrounded by so many people I know, somehow I met more people, yet again.

>Thursday Dec 8th:< Today I woke up and ate with my hosties. Then we went to this restaurant where the Cordon Bleu was like €2!! Then to a grocery store and then they surprised me and took me to a small little town with lots of snow. We watched snowboarders and skiers; it was nice (Eisenerz). Then we went to this Christmassy thing in Leoben where we walked around and had Kaffee and Punsch. I ran into Elias and Colby and went with them to a café. Then we came back to Bruck and went into Bayer (my favorite hang out place along with Life-style, it’s a café-like place), I walked home after about an hour. It was really cold out but it was still a nice walk. I even jogged, some exercise made me feel really good.

I got my official return date around this time as well. It was definitely a shock to realize how finalizing it was. I gave myself about a week or so after school ended so that I can get the summer train ticket right after school and travel all over Austria getting in the last bits I really wanted to have before I left.

>Friday the 9th to Saturday the 10th:< Time with host parents. Driving around Styria on Friday and visiting some graves of deceased relatives (they visit the graves of their old loved ones often). A long walk and relaxing day Saturday. Trip to visit family in Vienna on Sunday as well as visiting the ChristkindleMarkt.

I’ve decided that when I come home I am continuing piano. You wouldn’t believe the compliments I get from even very good piano players. I definitely seem to be connecting very well with it all. I have fallen in love with music all over again. Also, before I die I must see the Aurora Borealis in Alaska. Visit every country in the world (the UN states that there are only 192). Speak 4-7 languages. Play 3-5 instruments. Sing, write, paint, dance, and act. It’s all so dear to my heart! When I come home I want to stay close to Jax for AT LEAST a year. When you leave your home you begin to realize just how special it was.

*Sometimes I just want to run away. Nature is the safest place.
Love is the only thing that can save us now. Love and understanding.
We’re all so different yet so the same. People are always people.
Kiss me on both cheeks and say goodbye. We have a mission, the world and I.*
-Me

>Monday Dec 12th:< Today I went to school and got on the computers etc. Then I came home and slept and slept till dance class, which I left an hour early because now it’s just becoming rather boring. We learned how to Polka today… I think that’s the funniest dance I have ever known… to the funniest music. Nice to be in the know though. That was my last time at the dance class actually. I started picking up other things over the holidays so I not only had no time for it but my lack of interest in it anymore contributed. It’s hard to continually dance with 14/15-year boys when all of them have two-left feet.

>Tuesday Dec 13th:< I went to school then home for a bit then off to my piano class. After piano class I went home to eat with my hosties then off to see my Host brother from my next family (Stefan)´s Bass recital. I met up with Thomas the half British boy (Stefan’s best friend) before and then we found Stefan in the musikschule. Stefan is so funny and his mom seems really nice so I think when I switch host families in March it won’t be so bad. He also said when I move in with him he is going to be my new bass guitar teacher, which is wonderful because in Florida I play the bass guitar and I will be able to brush up on everything. Then I went home and spent a long time reading the book `Body of Evidence´ by Patricia Cornwell.

>Wednesday Dec 14th:< I had the usual school and my German course in Leoben (I think it’s been helping out a lot with the language). ; Dec 15th: school, I had another Rotary dinner to attend, it was Lani´s last Rotary meeting so she had a speech and everything to do. It finally hit me then that our oldies (oldies are the January to January exchange group predominantly made up of Australians that ends up mingling with the group that arrives in August) were really leaving, my oldie was leaving. The girl who took care of me when I was really down and listened to my problems no matter how much it might have not been exactly what she wanted to do, she was there when I needed her. Thank you Lani.

>Friday Dec 16th- Sunday the 18th:< Rotary weekend in Salzburg. It was the last official meeting for all the oldies and newbies (my last time seeing so many people for probably the rest of my life and that, my friends, is a terrifying feeling). It was an awesome last Hurrah with us all together. I learn more about myself every time we all get together and as it all came to a close I cried as I said goodbye to so many people. I got closer with certain learning things about both of them that I think no one else knew or could understand. I will always remember and appreciate my own lonely departure as I walked away from the youth hostel in tears so I could catch up with all the others taking my train home and the Aussies & co. sang out behind me “What do we think of Trish?” “She’s all right yah, she’s all right yah, she’s all right yah” and then all sounds began to fade as it took me hours to really regain composure. I was quiet for sometime on the bus and train ride home.

> Monday Dec 19th- Friday the 23rd:< A pretty normal week all-leading up to Christmas. I went to school, piano lessons, and my German lesson but other than that I couldn’t recall too much more happening in the week. Friday I went out on the town again and had a great time, also my host grandma on my host mother’s side came to visit. I didn’t get to know her well considering I was in and out but I do know that she brought me a bag full of candy for Xmas.

> Saturday Dec 24th (Heiliger Abend):< Christmas Eve here is really their Christmas, all the celebration is done on this day. I woke up late and Tante Hilda came over (the lovely woman!). We have a wonderful Christmas tree decorated with ornaments from places all over the world! When the holy evening (Heiliger Abend) approached we lit candles all over the tree and even put sparklers on it! The fire alarm went off but they assured me that we don’t actually have to worry about a fire occurring! I got so many gifts it was unreal! I truly had a great Christmas. My host mother even made Schnitzel and tomato soup as our meal because it’s some of my favorite foods. My hosties did their best to make me feel comfortable and even though there was a slight family drama and Tante Hilda got sick. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas here. I almost was led to tears.

I am no longer dreaming of a white Christmas! This year was a special year here over in Europe. There was an incredibly surprising amount of snow fall before Christmas. Normally in Bruck an der Mur they don’t have snow on Christmas day because a little bit of snow falls in December but not enough to stick throughout Christmas. I was a very lucky girl to witness the overwhelming amounts of snow! Even today it hasn’t snowed for a long time and we still have leftovers to deal with from the large amount of snow we received before.

> Sunday December 25th:< Christmas day here is mostly a laid back day. This is when I think the best TV shows and movies are on the television! Due to the fact they celebrate most everything on the 24th today is a winding down time. A TV time mainly

> Tuesday the 27th:< I spent the day with Yvonne shopping and going to the movies it was real nice. She has become a very good friend. It feels good to get out and do things that were so normal to do in Florida.

>Wednesday the 28th:< We went to visit more family down in Corinthia/Kärten. I had a great time. I got closer with their relatives especially Martina’s mother while playing poker and setting up the dinner table. And all the older ladies were saying how “chic” I look, which is like sheik or something. Which to them is very stylish! I had bought this new hot pink hat that makes anything I wear look stylish! We all also went ice-skating for a while and it turns out I am not too bad (although I am no medalist either!).

> Thursday Dec 29th & Friday the 30th:< Thursday was my first day sledding ever in my life and it would be an understatement to simply say I didn’t know what I was getting into. First we all (Sabi, Marlene, Nadine, and many more) met at the Kalte Quelle (the bottom of some mountain) and then we had to walk up a mountain in the cold snow. walk up a freaking mountain. I have no idea how long it took to get up there it could have been between one and two hours or more – all I know is I seem to have lost consciousness after the first 45 minutes and I just trudged on without so much as a word coming out of my mouth except maybe the occasionally “I have never walked so long on such a steep incline in my whole life” or ” I cant believe I am doing this” or “we don’t even really have hills in Florida”. I will always remember the intense joy when we finally reached the top and there was a little inn just waiting for me to run in and get a nice big glass of water! I made it! By then it was dark and I teamed up with a girl to sled down the mountain together. it was awesome! So exciting to be alone in the woods in the dark, sliding down a mountain, and because we were in front we had no idea where we were going. It was a great day. Afterwards I came home then went out into the city with the girls. It wasn’t too bad a night I stayed out till about 3 or so. ; Friday I went out into the city again but I didn’t stay out late.

> Saturday Dec 31st and January 1st:< I woke up late as usual then we had dinner with another family and talked and talked and talked, although I was for some reason incredibly tired and I had to go take a 2 hour nap before I was going to go to Stefan’s (my 16 year old next host family brother) party. In Austria New years is called Sylvester and is just as big as in the states. At 12 midnight traditionally Austrians watch the Stefansdom in Vienna and hear it ring out the New Year followed by dancing the Vienna Waltz or at least watching it, also they give out tokens of good luck which include pigs (something about how pigs are always moving forward by sniffing with their snout and so a pig is good for moving on into the new year), 4-leaf clovers, peanuts, lady bugs, and what ever else you just happen to like (for instance I got cat stuff as well). There weren’t too many people at Stefan’s house but I liked them all. There was Thomas, Kathi, Lisa, Steffy, Rafeal and a few others. The girls all had our bonding time as I gave them advice on current issues that phase 15/16-year-old girls based on my past experiences. Spoke with my family a bit and Stephen too. We all went outside at midnight and watched the fireworks going and so much more. I even got to drink champagne with real gold in it.; The first day of the New Year: They say that what you do today decides what you will be like the rest of the year so instead of sleeping the day away I took my Bible and went for a long walk through the wilderness ending at a creek where the water was so low I could walk to the middle and sit down on the exposed rocks to read. So I spent most of my day in religious contemplation. On top of that, Tante Hilda came by to visit again.

> Monday Jan 2nd and Tuesday the 3rd:< Gareth (my best guy friend in Austria who is an exchange student from South Africa) came early in the morning to meet with because he was going to stay the night at my house so we could see each other one last time before he has to depart back to the jungle he came from (hehe). We had a nice time sitting at the café, then meeting with Lani and having a few drinks in the city. Afterwards Gareth and I stayed up watching ´The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants´, which is one of the gifts I had just received from Kaitlyn and Rochelle (it meant so much to me); Jan 3rd: Gareth and I went ice-skating (he had never done it before and wasn’t too bad!). He left and I went for another long walk out in Nature. After my walk I came home to have dinner with my host family and my next family who I know I am really going to enjoy living with (except I don’t think I will like the fact they live so far from the city). I went to sleep early.

> Wednesday Jan 4th – Friday the 6th :< I tried snowboarding for my first time with Herr Professor Kramer (or just Rafael haha) as my teacher. It’s a lot harder than it looks, I learned it’s going to take more than one day to get the hang of it and I don’t like rum with hot chocolate. ; Jan 5th: My host parents surprised me and took me to the Lipizzaner stables! It was awesome! I got to see the place where the famous Spanish Lipizzaner horses were when they were young, old, not as well trained as the ones in Vienna, or female. If you didn’t know they are the white horses that are very famous especially in Vienna where they have a Spanish Lipizzaner performance house. These horses are incredibly smart and they are born black or brown! I made friends with a couple of them. Then we went to a city where there is a church designed by the infinitely talented Hundertwasser. It’s much better from the outside though I must say. He normally designs things that at first appear to be a chaotic arrangement of colors and such but after close inspection it all makes sense. After that we went to a spa and swam around in the warm waters for while. I was exhausted. ; Jan 6th: My host parents took me to Semmering so I could see a really harsh Austrian winter (it’s a famous skiing area here). There was SO much snow it was unreal. Then we went to Mürzschlag (forgive my spelling errors) and went into the Winter Sports museum that was very interesting.

> Jan 7th & 8th:< I spent most of the day at home and spoke with my sister. She told me our dog Gunther was dying and I had a very hard time with it all so I just went back out into the wilderness and tried to run the pain away. ; Jan 8th: I decided it would be better to get out and talk to someone so I met with Yvonne. She even had a present for me since I had told her the day before about the bad news. she got me a card saying she would always be there and a little wooden tiger to let me know I still have Tiger. Her thoughtfulness is abounding. We went to a café for a while too and I got a drink called the Florida, which is a tropical tasting alcohol-free cocktail (it tastes great). When I got home I was terrified of the call I was going to receive from my parents because I knew what was coming (they had tried to reach me all day). Then they called and told me that it was for sure and Gunther had in fact passed away. It was a terrible night. I couldn’t sleep and I think my angst over Gunther about to pass away was the reason I kept having serious chest problems since I heard he was sick the day before. But that’s all gone. done with, quickly becoming more and more a part of the past. He was such a loving dog. It’s too much. So I spent a long time on the phone with Ali (my best friend) trying to get over it all and playing my heart out on the piano.

The piano has become such a relieving outlet for me. As well as singing show tunes (songs from the Broadway musical Cats in particular). I always have to keep in mind that ‘when God closes a door He opens a window’.

> Monday Jan 9th:< It had seemed I was going to be better. School was good and I got a lot of support from friends. In my 7th grade German class all the little kids even held a big interview of my holidays and me in German! I was proud of myself and the things that I had understood. Then I spent the whole day sleeping the last of my sorrows away.

> Tuesday Jan 10th:< School, piano, and the fitness studio with Yvonne which turned out to be not so bad. Today I felt like I am officially a member of the family. As difficult as the situation was it’s the bad times that can bring people so much closer.

Exchange students may want to be the super perfect exchange student sometimes, but we must understand that we are still human and therefore we do made mistakes and must move on. We have to learn to forgive ourselves and to just keep trying.

> Wednesday Jan 11th:< At school I had a speech about Jacksonville, Florida and its history (in English class). It was great! So after lunch with my host family I went to the fitness studio and practically killed my legs on the hydro cycling machine (it’s a weird machine that really wears you out) and then doing my rounds with my upper body work out followed by a trip to the kebab store to get a nice big juicy kebab to eat! Next I took off to my German course, which went well as usual and afterward I met with Lani for her last night in Bruck an der Mur and Austria altogether. She’s really been a great oldie and I will miss her a lot. Neither one of us was too sad though because I know we both felt like this wasn’t the last time we would see each other, I have an open invitation to Sydney Australia! One day I will make it out to Australia and see her again, I just know it (perhaps she’ll visit Florida one day as well).

> Thursday Jan 12th:< I went to school but had a lot of free time as well. Many people in the school seem really down lately and I don’t know if it’s the weather. It is so tiring trying to get a smile out of everyone lately. After school I went home, ate and then went to volleyball practice and home. I am so worn out now. My body can’t handle any more exercise for a while.

Winter depression hits people living in cold regions for many reasons. If you think about it, it’s too cold to do most outdoor things anyways. You have to wear layers and layers of clothing to even step outside and so often times people just revert to staying in or around the house. The days are getting shorter and the nights longer, making even less time to really spend outside. We hadn’t had too much sun lately either, but it breaks through every couple of days. it’s as if you not only see the seasons change but you change with them.

>Friday Jan 13th:< Look at that, Friday the 13th! Hmm I hope something interesting happens! Today I got to watch my favorite show The Pink Panther/Die Rosarota Panther again, always in German of course. I have developed a true love for the cartoon Pink Panther. I am obsessed! The Pink Panther is hilarious and so witty and funny and pink! Ok and so after that I went for another long bus ride and had a Latte Macchiato while reading my latest book ´Men are from Mars Women are from Venus´. Ok, so the book does state that in some cases there’s a role reversal and so I guess I am that exception. Anyways so I spent the whole day laying around at home waiting a ride to another Matura ball but I never heard from them so I just went to Yvonne’s along with Nadja and we had a girls night.

This is the poem I made using the sticky letters people have on their fridges (which may I add don’t give you much of a selection). It pertains to the low and high points of the exchange year, my personal mission as an exchange student, and the reason to keep on going.

Bruised Avenue

When this secret evening
is as dark sounding
as cracking glass
it is only consumed
with a loving song
or by the immense
Smell of a morning bouquet.
So stagger out through
to the lacy wild,
for you can win over
your people.

I am still reading the Bible steadily, at times I thought it would be hard to hold on to my beliefs in a culture where they can be so different (trust me Catholicism here and the beliefs of my little beachy Baptist church can be completely different at times), but it just takes effort and understanding for everyone.

Well I hope this has been a thoroughly enjoyable entry for everyone even though it was painstakingly long.

Liebe Grüße,
Patricia Leigh Smith
Aka TRiSH >^..^< or Sha

July 28 “Pre-Departure” Journal

I finally had a chance to feel it, the feeling that until this day seemed absent in my spirit. Today I along with good friend and also outbound exchange student Anna Breedlove, accompanied by several host families, excitedly awaited the arrival of inbound exchange student Viola Balzaretti from Italy, at Gainesville Regional Airport.

Making sure not to miss such an insightful event, I was the first to arrive at the airport greatly anticipating Viola’s arrival. Armed with a gift of flowers and my digital camera, I sat in silence thinking of the days to come. The day when strangers enthusiastically await my arrival, bearing hugs, kisses, and gifts. The day when I step off of the plane, and an unreal hush overcomes the airport followed by the over joyous cry from those that you will indeed go through hard times and good times with. I sat in a nearly paralyzed state of mind staring out the terminal window thinking of the days to come. Soon after Anna Breedlove along with some friends and others arrived. We sat and chatted excitedly about Viola’s arrival, as well as our departure, and what awaits us in our host countries, we also talked about what such good times Rotary was able to offer us.

Later a midsized jet touched down and pulled up towards the terminal window, instantly my stomach began to flutter with excitement, I looked into Anna’s eyes and knew without asking that she was feeling the same. We all sat in silence peering out the terminal window, waiting to spot that familiar blue Rotary Blazer as crowds of passengers exited the plane. I was getting worried, many people were coming off of the plane but none resembled Viola. The constant stream of people getting off of the plane began to decline in numbers and still Viola seemed absent. The once before heavy stream of people ended, my heart dropped like a stone and I could suddenly hear myself breathing deep inside my head. Anna noticed my panic-stricken face, and began to comfort me, reassuring that this plane was indeed Viola’s flight and she was indeed on it. She got me to smile when she said “Don’t worry Mike, maybe she is just sleeping.”

Finally a familiar short-statured girl, with noticeable thick bouncy curls, exited the plane wearing a blue Rotary Blazer. Everybody including Viola was ecstatic. As she ran towards the crowd of strangers with open arms as well as open hearts, I became overwhelmed with shyness, I could not believe that this was the same Viola. The same girl I became good friends with soon after she was selected by Rotary, the same girl who joked, and wrote funny messages that at times were not meant to be funny, but ended up that way because of the dreaded language barrier, the same girl who talked to me several times over the phone, both tutoring me with my Italian, and of course having regular conversations, I felt as if I had known Viola for years rather then months.

Anna and I huddled closely together, giggling and talking about how it will be when we are in Viola’s shoes. I had to compose myself and fight back the happy tear that unfortunately I cannot remember I ever had. I approached Viola and handed her my flowers, but as she greeted me, I could not speak. All of my pearly whites were being exposed as I displayed my appreciation for her existence with my Cheshire grin. Soon everybody was huddled around Viola swamping her with gifts, hugs and kisses. And that is when it hit me. That feeling. I finally had the opportunity to witness how a very nervous person enticed with fear and excitement, will quickly change the appearance of their heart moments after realizing that these specific people were a different type of stranger as Viola did. These strangers would soon love and care for you as if you were their own. They will be there for you when you experience some of the hardest parts of your life to comfort you, and they will be there to celebrate with you when there are definite good times. I think I really like that feeling and I can’t wait until it is my turn.

September 17 Journal

After dreading 16 tormenting hours of fatigue and confusion I had finally made it to Italy. Well…I guess it wasn’t all that bad. Actually my flights into Italy from the U.S. were all on time and were quite comfortable. I met two very friendly exchange students also going to Italy at the airport in Detroit, they accompanied me all the way. Our first stop en route to Italy was Amsterdam. I was quite tired but also reeling with excitement knowing that I was less than two hours from my new life. During our two hour layover, my friends and I excitedly chatted to each other, anxious on knowing what the year will bring. Finally our boarding seats had been called and before you knew it, once again we were hurtling down the runway, heading towards our final destination. When we arrived in Milan, and claimed our baggage, we began the long walk to the arrival section of the airport. A sudden shrill of excitement rang out from one of my new friends as she ran into the open arms of her new parents. Well…. 1 down 2 to go. Shortly afterward I heard “Ciao Chad, welcome my son.” Well… I guess I’m on my own now. About 2 minutes later I heard a familiar voice call out my name “Ciao Mike! Benvenuto in Italia”. I turned towards the voice and saw a familiar face, it was the guy in the pictures, that had been sent to me from my first host family. I called him Pop.

“Ciao Ciao pop, uh uh, Come Stai?” At that very moment I felt as if God had pressed the reset button to my memory because all of my long, hard earned, basic Italian speaking ability was gone. Pop answered my question and then asked another rather familiar simple question, which to me was very important especially in Italy. “Hai Fame?” I knew the answer to that question but at that moment, I just stared and smiled not understanding what was said. “Mike, Have you hungry?” ohhhhhhhh!! that’s what “Hai Fame?” meant: have you hungry? or are you hungry? How could I forget that?

Moments later me and my pop were cruising down the autostrada (highway) at the SUGGESTED speed limit of about 120km/h which I think is between 70 and 80 mph. But talk about scary, cars were jutting in and out of lanes at break neck speed, tailgating Semi Trucks and all that good stuff. I was just sitting back relaxing munchin’ on Patatine (Chips) and thinking about how my life would change, and most importantly how I would react to the change that I now have somewhat of a real father, and not just another football coach or teacher as my male role model. I was both excited and scared because I did not know how I would react when I am no longer the only male voice in the house. But after the past week with my host father I now know, everything’s gonna be all right.

Finally about 2 hours and 5 or 6 close calls with some serious thrill seeking speed demons, my pop and I had finally made it home. And soon after, my host mother had come home from work. I was very happy to see her, she was the person whom I talked with on the phone the most. We sat and talked about my flight and about how my host sister (who is currently residing in Texas also an exchange student) was doing. Then I heard a timer like a bell, coming from the kitchen. When my host mom opened the kitchen door, a heavenly smell perfumed the small flat (apartment). “La chene pronta.” Dinner is ready.

After filling up on home cooked Italian Cuisine (I would tell you what it was, if I knew what it was, but trust me it was good) we went for a stroll in the bustling cobblestone streets of Cremona. The city was filled with very archaic beautiful hand carved statues and ancient 500 year old churches and ruins. Also there were many modern window shops, shops that sold everything from food which is usually served outside on small elegant tables, to designer clothing which ranged from 25 Euro to about 450 Euro. It was all magnificent. I was also excited about how many people were out and about, laughing, talking, little kids playing tag and screaming, the sweet smell of a bakery, and best of all, teens my age, they were everywhere. I knew on the spot that this was where I belonged.

I have just completed my first week of Italian School. It had its good experiences along with its bad. First, I definitely cannot wait until I can be communicable and literate in Italian, then I am sure school will not be as boring, because I would have something to do. As of now my only job in school is to listen and learn which has proven to be very difficult especially when they speak very fast. Usually I am able to catch 1 or 2 words out of about 500. But speak slowly and I can almost understand you. I’m getting tired of playing “pretend I know what they are saying, and say Si” but that is all I can do for now. Luckily, to most of the Italian students I look like a Rapper, perhaps maybe because I am the only Black student in school. And also a majority of American Super Star musical entertainers in the U.S. are Black Rappers. Anyway, I ain’t complaining. Well my new superstar status has made me popular in school, so now I have quite a few Italian friends to go to when in need of cultural differential help and translation which is almost close to always.

To sum up my first week in Italy, I LOVE IT HERE, Thanks for everything God, Family, Friends and of course Rotary. I would probably have never had this opportunity if it wasn’t for you. Because of you I have a new Home, new friends, new family and a new life.

October 9 Journal

I have been in Italy now, what seems like three weeks actually one month. Time surely flies by quickly. I don’t miss home yet, sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing or if I am a little twisted, but anyways my first month in Italy has gone by quite well.

Everyday I learn something new. From phrases, to new words or even just some good ol Cremonese or Italian History. Ohhh, talk about history, my little city is packed full of it. There are soo many ancient churches here, some soo old, that it is prohibited to go inside. One very ugly church in particular always caught my attention as I passed it heading towards my school. I wondered why nobody demolished it. Yes, I know it was old but so are about 30 of the other ancient churches here in Cremona. Anyway…. believe me this church was hideous. It was a very ominous looking structure, with old broken eroded gargoyles some with their heads missing. The church itself was structured with very ugly red brick with many streaks and blotches on them. It looked as if 1000 pigeons decided to…. well… have their way with it. One day I asked my host father (in Italian might I add) why they didn’t just demolish the old thing because it definitely was not “Kodak worthy”. He looked at me with a surprised look and said, this church holds a very important piece of Cremona history. This church was once covered in beautiful marble, but when Napoleon Bonaparte invaded Italy, he came to Cremona, saw the church, and stole every piece of marble that was on it, and brought it all back to France. All the blotches and streaks was where the marble once was.

School for me is going quite well. I am beginning to hear and understand more words coming from the teachers, despite the amazingly fast speed in which they speak. Sometimes if I’m feelin’ lucky, I will actually attempt to respond to questions asked in class. Usually I am incorrect both in language and the answer itself, but I can tell that my teacher is proud of my courage and progress. Also the students in class are beginning to go from chuckling, whenever I speak to impressive oohing. I, along with the other exchange students here in Cremona, have been taking language courses every Tuesday and Thursdays. It is a big help to us. Also I have befriended a Custodian at the school that has nicknamed me American Express and in courtesy I have nicknamed her Napoli Express (I tried Italian Express but she was persistent not to be called that). Everyday, I meet her on my way to class and she always gives me a cup of caffe and a mini lesson of Italian, she is actually a big help to me. Often after school I am asked, to play a game of Futbol with some of the school boys, I tried to tell ’em I couldn’t play but noooooooo, “Everybody can play Futbol”. Boy, did I prove them wrong. Talk about GOD AWFUL, but still I always have fun, and the guys don’t harass me too much, about kickin’ the ball in the wrong goal every now and then.

I have joined the local Palestra (gym) to help me out with the infamous Rotary 15. Well, I guess if you are in Italy it is more appropriate to call it the Rotary 55. But going to the Gym definitely helps me. And it also gives me something to do. It seems to be working out pretty good, perhaps maybe because my personal trainer is a world class body building coach, I said please please please don’t make me look like a steroid pumpin’ maniac, but his English is minimum, and the way he has been making me train, I’m not too sure he understood me. But I’m not too worried, My body won’t tolerate muscles on top of muscles. There are some professional body builders that train in my gym, I thought they would be too busy to come up to me and chat, especially since they know that at the moment I am not able to speak to them well. But actually they are very friendly, they often come up to me and chat. They explain to me different ways to work out and also the right way to eat, some have even invited me to one of their bodybuilding competitions. I have noticed a big difference in the way people eat and care for their bodies. Before seeing for myself, I thought most of the Italian men were the stereotypical fat stumpy guys with nice suits, being fed mounds of spaghetti by their wives or mistresses, and you would think so, knowing that Italy is Carb Central. But it is totally different – most of the people I have noticed in Italy are in pretty good shape. Also I have noticed that the Italians eat food in a much healthier way than in the U.S. There isn’t a McDonald’s for miles from my city. And the fast food that is available here is quite healthy. A typical meal consists of 2-3 different servings, usually pasta or some sort of carbohydrate, a serving of meat and salad or fruit, and for dessert, Gelato (Ice cream) or one of the 3,000 different types of Cheese. All washed down with either water, tea, or juice. A formal meal usually consists of 6-8 servings, it sounds like a handful but with the portion sizes it really is not bad at all. Buon Appetite!

I having been walking and riding my bike everywhere in Italy. Some of the streets in my town are for only biking and walking. There are definitely more riders and walkers in the city then there are drivers. With gasoline prices as high as they are, not only in Italy but in all of Europe (now America) it just isn’t feasible to drive everywhere, anytime. Anyhow it is much more relaxing and healthy to just walk or ride wherever you need to go that is in decent distance. Also, I think that it is socially better to walk or ride because you often meet friends and family in the streets.

Fashion in Italy is very important. Italians pride themselves on how they look. Most of the Italians often whip out their second to best clothing, just to stroll through the city, or to meet with friends. It looks to me as if everybody just stepped off of a runway show. Every Saturday and Sunday nights the streets of the city square are packed. Often there are many concerts, with both professional and amateur bands, dancers, and all types of entertainers doing what they do best, entertaining in the city square. Hundreds of people, everywhere, all ages, races and genders. Everybody I know from school is in the city square Saturday and Sunday nights either sitting in the bars conversing and listening to music, or outside eating , drinking, singing, dancing, talking, waiting for the Discos to open. It is nothing quite like I’ve ever seen in America. I can already tell. My new life in Italy will be an experience like no other.

October 28 Journal

Ciao Ancora, tutti Ragazzi. MAMA MIA!!!!! Where is the time going to soooo fast. Already it is the beginning of another month. This month was very exciting for me. I met new people and learned more about those I already know. I am speaking with my Italian friends and teachers in my new language. Yes.. my Italian is still quite rough but it only gets smoother as time passes. Everyday I am learning something new about my old city, And each time I learn something new I just gain more and more respect for the age and history of this 2000+ year old city. Often, sometimes in the most random places, you will see an important piece of Italian history, whether it be an old church or a broken old statue. Sometimes the history that may be in your very presence is hidden beneath layers and layers of dirt.

After a shop owner decided that it would be better for his growing business to have more underground parking space and storage, during construction he stumbled on an important lost piece of Italian history. While his workers were excavating nearly 50 ft underneath the ground, they discovered a wall, that should not have been there according to excavation blueprints. Worried that he might have struck something important such as a water or gas pipeline he called in the experts to give him an all clear so that he may continue. Well… he definitely did not receive an all clear signal because what he had struck was the wall of a portion of a lost Ancient Roman city, complete with roads, homes and public baths, that date back to nearly 500 B.C. The discovery has attracted news media, archaeologists, historians and enthusiasts worldwide, the owners once soon to be parking lot project is now a major archaeologist dig site.

School for me this past week was very exciting, not only for the fact that I am becoming more communicable with my friends but for one week, 19 exchange students from England have come to visit Italy. They have been going on Italian excursions and luckily since there are only 6 Rotary Exchange students in my district (unfortunately all from the United States) we had been invited to join the British on their Italy Tour. Venice was part of the tour. A truly magnificent city built on water. I remember seeing Venice on TV, and in books and in magazines, but I could not truly appreciate its beauty until I saw it for myself. Although Venice was physically right there in front of me, I felt as if I was out of reality, in my personal La La Land. I just couldn’t believe I was actually here, not as a tourist but as a visitor. It was just as I had seen it on TV. The gondoliers gondiling their gondolas, looking snappy in their striped shirts and flagged hats, hundreds of pigeons flocking down on you after the first sight of food, the marvelous palaces that lined the shores of the Mediterranean, the lazy cat being lulled to sleep atop a boat, gently rocking with the calm waves of the sea. Everything was just soo magnificent.

At the end of the week, I realized that all good things must come to an end. My new friends that I just met days before and started to bond with, are now preparing to go home. The English have left the building. It hit me. Going home for me is gonna be a major bummer. I’ve only known these English people for a few days, and now when it is time for them to go home, I find myself fighting back tears because well……”God forbid I cry in the presence of the British.” But I have only known them for such a short time, how will it be when I have to leave my new Italian friends, not even just my Italian friends, but the other Rotary Exchange students that I’ve bonded soo much with. In one year, you watch someone mature and grow with you. Sharing the same emotional ups and downs. You grow to love them like your own family, and then one day BAM!!!!! It’s time to go home, at the end of my exchange, I can picture myself saying, “well, its been really nice practically living with you, bonding with you for a whole year, being able to talk to you unlike any other friend and grow together in all aspects of life, but now I’m going home, and I’ll probably never see you again, thanks for being there when I needed ya, bye now.” It takes a very special person to be able to cope with that type of pressure, leaving your new family, your new friends, your new home. But It is truly amazing, how much you grow with just that experience. You become another person, a better person by just realizing what you have gained from your year abroad.

Advice to future exchangers reading my journals: Don’t let my last two paragraphs of this journal scare the living hell out you. Going to another country not just to be a tourist, but to actually live there, is the experience of a lifetime; you will be amazed at how much you mature and grow, learning to think open minded, and preparing to cope without Mommy and Daddy. Meeting new people, sharing new thoughts, becoming a leader. You will view life in a way different perspective then you perceive it to be now. You must be able to think out of the box, you must learn to accept and respect differences than back home. Just by applying to the program, already you show that you are ambitious, adventurous, courageous and different from the rest. You will never forget nor will you ever regret.

December 5 Journal 

Ciao Ancora Tutti, Again, back for yet another journal. Yep, I’m definitely twisted. Still I haven’t, I don’t, and I don’t think I will miss home. This month was crazy, I did a little travelin’, a little protesting and I almost got caught up in a riot. No worries though, just good times.

Usually I start out my journals with a little bit of Cremonese or Italian history, usually pertaining to my town, that I find quite interesting, but this time I’m going switch it up a bit and tell you something a little different. Soccer is and always will be the biggest sport in Italy, and just about everywhere else in the world. Rivalry games usually bring out the inner beasts of all people. Usually people get very excited prior to rivalry games, and sometimes get a little out of control. Well that is just exactly what happened a couple of weeks ago in my little town. The biggest rival for the Cremona Soccer team is a small town about 20 miles out called Brescia. Brescia and Cremona, the two teams, have a rather extensive soccer history, that seems to be getting a little more out of control every time the two teams meet. This team does not respect the history of that team, that team is full of traitors, this team is full of liars and cheaters, that team pays off the referees, and so on. Just enough bickering to fuel enough anger to start a small riot. Well it just so happened that the same exact riot occurred within 50 ft of my house. I was enjoying a nice dinner when I heard a train pull into the station, nothing unusual – trains come and go every 15 minutes, but this was a little different. I heard a lot of yelling and shouting coming from the train, so of course with my curious nature I had to check it out. People were climbing out the windows of the train because the police had ordered the train conductor to lock the doors, so that no angry testosterone fueled Bresciano fans came out, because there were too many testosterone fueled Cremonese fans waiting for the Bresciano fans. Well… anyways, the Bresciano fans escaped through the windows of the train and then began to urinate on the train (serves them right huh). There is a small bridge which the railroad goes over, and under that bridge is a walkway, which is important to get from a road, the main street where all of the fun is. Ordinary people were going about their business walking under the bridge. Well what is one way for an excited group of fans to “soc it to em?” Urinate on the passing peoples heads too.

After the Bresciano fans were content from urinating on various things and people, they proceeded to the main streets, where they met the Cremonese fans accompanied with some police, and then the fun began. Yelling, Shouting, Pushing, Punching, Kicking, Swinging police batons, the works. And of course I was just staring in awe wishing that my camera was not in the shop. It went on for a good 20 minutes until the police brought out the big gun. I will tell you from experience, “Tear gas sucks.” First my eyes started to water, then sting a little, then burn like hell.. but I stuck it out like a true soldier, and stayed and watched. Well about 10 minutes later and about 2 more Tear Gas capsules later, I could not take it anymore, and neither could the rioters, so we all dispersed. I went back inside to show my host mother my war scars (red watery eyes), then my host pop called me into the living room where he was watching the Riot on TV (big tough Italian huh). From the news I learned that earlier the same day some of the Bresciano fans put a small pipe bomb under the Cremonese stadium, and tried to blow it to smithereens. Not only were they unsuccessful, but they turned half of the stadium black. Also I learned that nobody was severely injured during the riot and the soccer match went on soon after as scheduled. Oh yeah!! we lost.

School for me is going just fine. I now am able to understand about half of what my teacher is saying, and even still I am making more friends. My Italian lessons are going at a pretty brisk pace but still I am able to keep up. I now naturally respond to all of my friends in Italian, rather than very slow English. Sometimes I speak correctly, but when I don’t, my friends laugh and then correct me. My school here is one of the ten hardest schools in Italy, so most of my friends are studying, from 4 to 6 hours a day, so it is often hard to hang out with them after school. Also school is in session on Saturdays for the full day so it is hard to have a decent social life. But it is definitely capable, but you must find some sort of activity to do after school. Just as I mentioned in journals past, I have joined the local gym. But when I do get with my friends, usually on Saturday and Sunday nights we make the best of it by either going to disco, or festa (party), or sometimes we just stay in the main square and chat, or go to an arcade and play video games. Also another favorite pastime here is Karaoke. Us singing is indeed considered a health hazard to the ears, but from a distance with a responding Fire Truck, and a crying baby, if not two, we don’t sound half that bad.

About one week ago the students in my school led a protest by marching through the streets of Cremona, other schools close to us that were also going to be negatively affected by the new head dean of School Administration, were also marching with us. I just tagged along and snapped some pictures to show you guys back home.

Last week my host parents took me on a small vacation with them. We were going to visit my Host mother’s sister in Naples. The 8 hour train ride was definitely worth it . I saw the most beautiful country land I’ve ever seen in Tuscany. Then we passed the bustling city of Florence, then Rome and finally Naples. Naples can never be truly described using words. One must visit to know what I mean. But I’ll give it a shot. South Italy, Naples in particular is nothing like North Italy. The people are more friendly, and are not at all shy with grabbing your arm and asking where I was from because I don’t look African. Even people I have never even met. The southern Italians are more loud and they sound always excited when they speak. They are also very family oriented, loving and friendly. But the absolute best aspect of Southern Italy, is Southern Italian cooking. Wow…………mama mia………..wow . Pizza in Napoli is nothing like you have ever tasted. The very best pizza in America would be considered Skifo (disgusting) compared to the worst pizza in Napoli. Trust me when I tell you, it is good. I also went through Pompeii to Sorrento from Napoli. Sorrento was a sight to behold. Gorgeous. Little town on a cliff over looking the ocean, use your imagination. The people in Sorrento were very friendly, also the animals in Sorrento were cool too. One week had passed and before you knew it, time for another 8 hours back to Cremona, It was very interesting on the train, I was quite amused, first you would see the Volcanoes of Napoli, then you would see mountains, after you would see the ocean, then the cliff like edges of islands coming out of the oceans, then you would see a city or two, then you would see green pastures with livestock or crop, then there would be a tunnel for about 10 minutes, and after exiting the tunnel it would be a blizzard like snowstorm, Snow… first time in a long time that I’d seen the stuff. After experiencing it once again I have come to the conclusion that Florida weather rocks. Later until next month.

January 22 Journal

Ciao Tutti, back again for yet another journal entry. I know you all missed one from me last month, sorry.. but no worries, not dead yet.

Everything went swell in my Christmas holidays in Europe. But I didn’t feel much shock and homesickness as I expected. Well I guess I felt some shock, shock in which I did not feel homesick, maybe because I felt as if I was at home… I wonder… deja vu (to all my French speakin’ buddies, sooo sorry if I slaughtered that phrase), I really did feel like I was home. I felt as if these new, different people were actually my family back home, but in disguise. I felt as if this were just another Christmas holiday, with all the family bunched together again at grandma’s house, except these people were the wrong color, and spoke a little funny, but other than that, I was home sweet home. Although we have different traditions, styles, customs, and cultures, there is still one important thing that never changes, I’m pretty sure you guys can guess what that is… I guess we are not all that different after all……

Today I am changing host families. I know it’s gonna be rough having to leave these crazy Italian folk, but it is part of the experience. Last night we had a little, what I like to call a “get the heck out of my house party” but formally a Farewell party. We all sat and reminisced about the good ol’ times. It is funny to me, even though my second host family lives approximately three blocks away, I feel as if I’ll never see these people again. And I think they feel the same way because host mom keeps cryin’, host dad ready to cry, and me, laughing in it up. I’M THREE BLOCKS AWAY!!!!! If you wanna see how your big black son is doin’, yell out the window, I’ll hear ya, promise. But I understand where they’re coming from. Good times with this family.

February 17 Journal

Ciao Tutti, back yet another journal. Five more to go and then I’m done…. This year just zipped by. It feels as if for me only 1 month has passed since I met Pop at the airport and not 4. But as I look at what I have accomplished, and most importantly what I have gained, I know for sure this was one year well spent. But before I begin, I want to congratulate all of the new 2006-07 Outbounds, you are all in for one hell of a ride. Just take it all in stride and you will be just fine, Good luck with your following orientations and beyond, keep our legacy going…. See ya soon.

This month will go down in history for the weather of Cremona. When I first arrived people were already telling me that I had forgotten to bring the Florida sun with me, because it seemed as if Cremona was cooler to say the least. And then Winter came, and then people were sure, this weather was not normal. Sure, Cremona has its off and on, light snow, but never anything like this, at least not in 20 years. Finally January rolled around, and it began to warm up a bit, everybody thought, maybe Spring was thinking of coming to Cremona a little early. What happened next, I would say, had very similar characteristics to Florida weather. Sunny and nice one day, Hurricane the next. But instead it was more like, Sunny and nice one day, Blizzard the next for Cremona. The snow came, and boy did it come, three days non-stop, record breaking snowfall for Cremona, 16 inches, most snow these people have seen in 20 years.

I used to be jealous of the Northern States, and their “Snow Days” but now that I have finally experienced one, I now envy my beautiful Florida weather. Shoveling snow is not particularly fun, especially if you have 16 inches before you. And just because the sidewalk may look clean, doesn’t mean there isn’t a diabolically placed, almost invisible sheet of ice covering it. It is quite impossible to stay dry, and also healthy, in this type of weather. You wouldn’t want to know how many tissue boxes I went through this season only. But not all snow days are irritating, It tends to bring out the camaraderie in the locals, especially when you have to get out of your own car and help “push”. I admired how the wheels of small and large vehicles alike spun without actually moving, and how buses would come down small hills…sideways and oh yeah, the most intriguing of all, when cars smash into one another, one by one like Dominoes. Good times. On a positive note, I very much am intrigued by how a snow day helps bring the community together, whether it be the infamous Snowball Fight which I am now a big fan of, the creation of a snow family, or better yet a snow kingdom, or just the sight of a dog drawn sled. You must have at least some admiration for a Snow Day.

Giorno Sulla Neve is what the Italians call it. Ski trip is what we would call it. February 10th, 7:45AM, almost the whole school crammed into about 8 coaches, shortly after we were on our way to the Italian Alps. On the way I saw some of the most beautiful Italian mountain range there is to offer, snow capped peaks, sheer drop cliffs, mountain water rapids… the works. As we gained altitude into the Trentino, Adige, section of Italy, I noticed the signs on the roads changing from Italian to German. As we gained even more altitude, I noticed restaurants and hotels and even some gas stations, with their signs written in German. Well, this isn’t Italy anymore, was what I first thought before one of the teachers explained to me that this is the German speaking section of Italy. Figures. Knowing how Switzerland was about 30 minutes to the left, and Austria was approximately 30 minutes to the right. Such Diversity!!

I have gained a new found passion for the snow. Snowboarding. It is by far one of the most exciting things I have ever done. At first I was a bit skeptical about trying it out after I witnessed a Wicked Wipeout, but after I convinced all of my friends, on the way to the Alps, that I was fearless, I was placed in between a rock and a very hard place. But then my natural thrill seeking hormones kicked in, with a little help from my friend telling me how insanely awesome going about 45 miles per hour down a mountain slope on a modified surfboard was… I just had to give it a shot. After I picked up the basics I was not as bad as I thought I would have been. I actually got compliments. People even asked me to accompany them to the “Big Hill” but I just wasn’t ready for that level of a wipeout, not just yet anyways. Well…who can all say they snowboarded the Alps?? I can. Well.. the Bunny Alps anyways, but still let’s all stick to what’s important. I snowboarded the Italian Alps.

After a month filled with getting to know new people, Snowboarding, Ice Skating, Sledding, Cross Country Trudging, Watching cars go down like Dominoes, Snowball Fights, Snowmen, watching buses coming towards me…sideways, getting a new family, building life long friendships, taking my first major test in school and passing it, and most of all pride, love and respect for a country other than my own, of course followed by all the experiences I have experienced or have yet to experience, there comes a time when every exchange student must accept that they are halfway to going home. I must learn to accept that I have indeed, completed half of my Exchange year. Already!! I am very proud of what I have accomplished, and how I have handled this portion of my life. But soon it will be all over, well, not necessarily over, I have gained friends for a lifetime that I am positive I will see again. I have learned new habits, and found different ways to live and succeed in life, and once again I must thank the Rotary and all of the people that have helped me get this far… Now I have a new feeling in my soul, I am not sure if I know exactly what that is. It’s a strange feeling, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. One day I will wake up and it will be July 14th, the day I come home. And then I have to say goodbye to it all, My families, My new friends, My new life, I don’t wanna go home… if you ask me, I feel as if I am already home….

April 19 Journal

Ciao a Tutti!! Once again, time yet for another journal, three more to go….

For once I have felt homesick, but not quite as you might think. For 10 days, I along with my fellow exchangers and a class from school had gone to Denmark for an intercultural exchange. I had quite a nice time; not only did I bond well with a class that I was not yet familiar with but, I also met new faces and saw different places in Denmark. Sierra Greaves is right!!! She mentioned in a much earlier journal what Danish to her sounded like. Take a mouthful of mashed potatoes, speak, and ya got Danish. For once I finally felt relieved to speak in the language that I can finally comprehend, and no… it ain’t English.

Denmark reminded me a lot of America. I found some quite striking similarities – the stores, the restaurants – one time for a split second when I was in a Danish superstore, if the name of the place wasn’t “Hashkashkalla”, I probably wouldn’t have felt more at home in Wal-Mart. After my 10 day venture through Denmark I couldn’t have felt more homesick. Homesick… no, not I, could it be…. yep, I wanted to get back to my sweet Italian Villa with the view of the ever beautiful Duomo, after 10 days, I was definitely feelin’ it. I missed my pasta, pizza, mama, papa. Non vorrei piu andare via.

Once again I have changed families, changed setting, changed lifestyle. I am now a Cowboy!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWW!!!!! if you haven’t guessed it quite yet, I now live on a farm.

I’m home, home on the Range, where the Cows, and more Cows graze. No Chickens to be heard, cause it’s a farm, which produces Curd, And the smell will keep ya up till its day…OHHHHH…..I think you guys know the rest to that song….

I’m lovin’ every bit of my new cowboy lifestyle. I now have quite a different agenda for my daily chores. I no longer see my friends on a daily basis, and I have a new smell. No No… not a particularly bad smell, just different, just like everything else here in Italy. I now have a new respect for Farmhands, which happens to be new title here. Every morning, I wake up, have a good ol’ farmy type breakfast, put on my clothes that haven’t been washed in about a week and head out. My first day on the farm, my host dad asked me jokingly, if I would like to help out a bit. Despite the brash warning given from my new host brother, I voluntarily agreed. C’mon how hard could it be… how wrong could I have ever been…. Milkin’ cows, haulin’ hay, breakin’ in wild horses… haha just playin’ Al, the horse part isn’t true, but I have ridden ol’ Tamey Tame Tame quite a few times. Believe it or not I think I am enjoying myself more on this farm then I ever have in the city. Maybe it’s the smell screwin’ with my thinkin’ juice, or maybe I’m just havin’ the time of my life.

May 29 Journal

A cala aca là ca la à a cala ca là. Translation: look at that cow, in which is going to that house. (Dialect of Northern Indigenous Italians of the Mountains. Bergamo Italy)

Ciao a tutti. Wow!!! has it really been almost 9 months… well, I guess so.. time sure flies when you’re having fun, but to tell you the truth, my exchange year wasn’t all fun, games, and girls like I had wished. Before there was a time in which I was.. dare I say it… unsociable, shy, scared. I could not understand a word.. I never knew if somebody was talking about me, or to me. I had very few friends, in fact at the time my only friends were my other American exchange buddies, I was quickly fed up with it all… But I knew that I was chosen as an exchange student for a reason.. And I was determined not to let my people back home down.. So I stuck it up, I made the best out of my time by being myself. I made a vow to study more and try to speak only Italian with my friends (ohh soo hard it was), I went out and made friends the same way I did back home. Heck, I even turned out a teacher one of my favorite teachers. (she is a definite homie now).

I remember Al telling us back home that, he really wasn’t interested in sending kids that were “trying to grow up” on an exchange, if it were for that reason, then Al, you seriously sent the wrong guy.

(Webmaster’s response: Well, that’s not exactly what I said, but nonetheless, Mike, there is no doubt in my mind that the student we sent to Italy was the absolute right guy! Congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished and become this year.)

Epilogue – Mike’s Speech at the District Conference, April 2007

It’s been almost a year since Mike Williams completed his exchange year in Italy. At the Rotary District 6970 Conference, held in Gainesville on April 27, 2007, Mike spoke about the impact of his exchange experience. As you read his words below, we know that all Rotarians will share our pride in Mike, for what he has accomplished as a Rotary exchange student, and for what he will accomplish in his life.

I never knew that an event that would change the perception of what people thought of me, and what I had thought of different people, would in any form mean more to me than getting arrested…again…

There was once a time in my life that I got along too well with the police.. I mean. it’s true, I got along quite well with the police.. I never resisted arrest once I was caught. Well, I’ve always been a fair person, I mean, once you’re caught, you’re caught.. There really wasn’t much resisting, the police were always pretty good at catching me when I least expected it. And we always had pleasant conversations on the way to Juvi.. (that’s Juvenile Hall to all you model citizens out there..) Years ago, I would have would have been considered a good-for-nothing, miscreant, punk with issues.. well, not any more, I have been through some major improvements..

Just the other day, I turned myself into Juvenile Hall, unescorted. I asked for my old probation officer, and when I got into his office, he ominously looked at me and said…Well, what did you do now…so I confessed.. I stole the hearts of some very special people, and in return, I got away with a whole life’s worth of experience and understanding of differences. All they did was give me an opportunity and a airplane ticket to Italy.. Officer Dundy gave me one of those confused, you pulled off the heist of the century type looks and said, “Mike, did you steal those plane tickets?” Close!!! Got a heck of a deal for them though..

When I told him about Rotary and how they had given me an opportunity to start over, clear the slate, and become anybody I wanted to be for a whole year in another country.. his mouth opened with awe. Then I told him that all I had to do was seize each day and make the best of it, his bushy eyebrows dropped in utter disbelief. Then I told him that I actually accomplished a whole year without getting arrested or getting into trouble even once…The old man’s jaw hit the floor. He asked, How I was able to fight the temptation.. I looked for a couple of seconds, thinking to myself, to myself, How did I do that??..I guess, finally someone felt that it was my turn to place a positive impact on a small portion of the world, and for the world to place a huge positive impact on me, and for the first time in a long time, I made a promise to myself not to screw this one up, and believe it or not I kept my personal promise. I saw that Rotary was giving me an opportunity to become someone else… myself… but yet someone else…so I grabbed the opportunity and ran with it…(no pun intended)..

Well, did you learn the language?… Did I !!!..I began to ramble on about how much I had loathed him and his beloved community service hours…in Italian of course…Did ya get along with the people.. well, now I have a reason to go back, and it isn’t to fight anybody… I made new friends, new family, new memories. I became involved with my community and its people while breaking down stereotypes against me and my people (Americans) which was a big reality check for me.. The majority of the Italians that I had spoken to had some quite incriminating Ideas about American people, especially black people, since most Italians had only seen African Americans in movies and on TV, which definitely gave wrong impressions, but then I realized that I was once part of that impression. I guess I had some stereotypes that needed to broken down as well…but everybody knows that a good Italian movie is a Mafia movie…or so I thought..

I get it…I understand what this program is all about…understanding…An exchange never ends, it continues forever because the only thing guaranteed in life is change…. the only thing to satisfy change is understanding, and the only way to truly achieve understanding is adaptation. Rotary gives you an opportunity to WITNESS change in understanding through adaptation, first hand. And that is truly a miracle, that is how and why world peace can be achieved…It begins with an outgoing person, a shy person, a misunderstood person, to link the world together.. We are all soo different but yet soo alike, that it is actually possible to change the world, one person at a time, one year at a time.. So…who’s turn is it next?? Don’t let change happen without you…Keep that as a promise to yourself, and you will have the time of your life…