Reflections from the Midpoint

Today was the five-month mark of my ten-month stay. I have a lot of contradictory thoughts and feelings about this day. I can remember trying to imagine it, back when it seemed an eternity away. It's weird to actually be here. I wouldn't say time has gone by fast; I don't think time ever really goes by fast. It's just that we look at points in the future as being so distant that we can hardly imagine getting there. And then time doesn't fly by, but it just...passes, when we never really expected it to.

I've thought a lot about time since I've been here. I've thought a lot about a lot of things. And how I want to approach time. And how I want to approach life. With the time thing, there's this sentiment that we should "seize every moment," and that's especially popular with the whole exchange program thing. I think that's sort of unrealistic. It's like in every moment you should be feeling in that moment that you are living life to the fullest; it makes me think of stock photos of laughing people and the sort of pictures you might find on tumblr. I've found here that the best approach is not for me to try to "seize" every moment, because then there's an expectation placed on everything, and then there's the possibility for unnecessary and unwarranted disappointment. I just try to experience every moment. That includes moments where I just sort of want to fall in a hole or return to the womb or something, because those moments do happen occasionally. And when I'm sitting in those little moments of eternity, I don't try to get away from it. I just try to live in it. Eat up the misery, maybe I can use it for some good later.

Ecuador is a weird country for me. Let me clarify: it is not bad, I am not having a bad time (far from it). How I ended up in Ecuador is I randomly choose it for a third choice country and then I was offered a scholarship. So, I found myself thrilled about free money and destined for a country I selected after browsing google image search results for 30 seconds. I'm adventurous! I did some research, and my host thoughts were, "Oh, shit. Well, here we go." Looking back, that was a pretty accurate thought to have.

You see, Ecuador is a Latino country. Latino culture and Ecuador is sort of the opposite of who I am as a person. I would not change this fact for the world. Really, I wouldn't. I'm glad I get to spend a year here. I am anxious. Ecuadorians are laid back. While I love the people I love very much, I have trouble imagining someone describing me as "warm." Ecuadorians touch each other at all available moments and put damn near half the words they say in a diminutive form to make them more "loving." I analyze everything alway at every moment and I can lay awake for hours before my mind is exhausted enough to sleep. Ecuadorians, not so much. These people do not like to read books. These people are loud. These people think Grown Ups 2 is a good movie. I do not belong here.

This isn't a classic cliche story of "Wow, but we're all really the same on the inside!" As much as I have learned how little our differences matter, I have learned how much they cannot be denied. And I have learned which parts of myself I will change to assimilate, and which parts really are who I am. It's a struggle for me to be here sometimes, feeling like no one understands me, so alone. It's almost tempting to get superior about it, like I know some grand secrets that no one around me knows. But I once got some obvious, but sometimes-difficult-to-follow advice: if everything seems wrong, you're what's wrong. And as much as they all don't understand me, I'm not understanding them. Because it's hard to understand. It always takes more effort to diverge from your default path. But it's my job here. I am learning a lot.

As for the language, I'm not really sure what to tell you about that. Everyone wants to know about the f-word: am I fluent yet? Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I am, sometimes I feel like I'm not. It's not at all tiring to speak Spanish anymore. I don't translate in my head. If someone speaks English that's not that great, I'd really prefer to speak Spanish with them. I understand essentially everything that's said, but occasionally people bring in words I haven't heard before. I can think in it. I dream in it. I write my diary in Spanish. I'm rereading Mockingjay in Spanish (Sinsajo) and while there are plenty of new words, I infer some, look up some, and overall can read it at a normal and comfortable pace. Schoolwork poses minimal challenge in the language department. I can go an entire day and not misunderstand anything. I can talk fast if I'm not nervous. I can watch most tv shows and the news without any problem, but if I try to watch a critically-acclaimed movie with smart dialogue, it can get tough. I'm impatient with the language, which in a way is good because I constantly want to be better at it. I don't know if I'm "fluent." There isn't really an officially fluency point where an angel visits you in a dream or something. I'd say my level is medium-high.

I've been really blessed to have some amazing people here. I LOVE my host family. So much. Family time is very important in Ecuadorian culture and I love being with them, so that works out quite nicely. They are loving and caring and incredibly understanding and I got really lucky there. I've made some truly good friends at school. At the beginning of an exchange, I think it's sort of like you make allies more than friends. But I'm past that and really love and care about some of my classmates. And we talk and laugh and I enjoy their company. I have friends from my art class who share a lot of my interests (art, obviously), and we can have long philosophical discussions where my pencil doesn't touch the paper my entire two-hour class. There are some really amazing people in my exchange group too, and they're sort of a blessing I never expected and just being with them makes me feel less alone and reminds me that I'm part of an incredible and rare experience.

It's made me appreciate what I've always had. My home, my family, my friends. The good education I received. The world of opportunities I can take advantage of in the future. I feel glad to be alive, even when I'm unhappy. I feel lucky. Very lucky.

Essentially all words could apply in some capacity to the experience I've had here. As they say, "Exchange is not a year in life, but life in a year." I've changed and I imagine I'll change a lot more by June. I'm excited to live every up and down of the next five months. Whatever happens, it will be fine. This whole thing has made me believe in fate. Not that I necessarily think fate is a real thing, but I do think I'm at my best believing it will all work out and living without fear. Best off just...living.