4 Week Update

Hi all. I swear I've been meaning to write an update but haven't been able to use my computer. The charger broke and my new one won't be arriving for about four more business days. It's annoying to have to type things on my phone.

Full disclosure: It's been a dreary few days. I feel like I might as well just be honest on this blog. School is going well and I am able to follow my classes in Spanish better than I expected. The teachers I work with are very nice and supportive and so they're very helpful as I ease into my work routine. I'm becoming more confident about navigating the city and going places. The work/school week always seems to go by quickly.

But then the weekends have been hard. If you've ever studied abroad alone/moved to a new place by yourself, you know it's hard being the new kid. I felt it when I was in Ecuador and I have to go through it again now. People are very nice; I really am making friends but it just takes time. I think I'm just about to the outside-of-school friend level with a few people so that's good. I can be quite shy and introverted so it's work fighting that impulse. I also have three-day weekends right now which I'm sure I'll love in the end, but they feel long to me now.

Today I've been stuck home from school, sick in bed. I'm really looking forward to going back tomorrow. I have things to keep me busy but I generally don't do well alone with my thoughts for too long; they usually drift back to home. A couple people in my life just started college and most of my friends from high school are starting their careers; I've just been feeling a little off-step about life. Classes at Webster started today and as I was throwing up this morning I couldn't help but wish I was waking up with Andy and the cats in our apartment and starting school at a place where I feel in my element.

What can I say, it's hard! I want to tell you that I'm partying it up here and just having fun but I won't lie. I'm still adjusting. I've done this before and I know it gets better. Someday, when I look back on my experience here, I won't hardly even remember days like these. But in this moment, they are a real challenge to overcome. Even though I know overcoming makes me stronger, whenever I'm actually in the overcoming process I think, damn, why did I not remember how hard this is? There's no way out but through it.

On a more positive note, I had some delicious food this weekend, the trees are budding and I can't wait for spring to arrive, and Andy's coming to visit me the week of Thanksgiving. That'll be here before I know it, right?

Hope to have sunnier things to say next time! Also I'd love to add some photos but my phone is being a pain about it so I guess they'll just have to wait.

Not the Post I Wanted to Write

I was planning on getting around to writing a post this weekend. I was going to write about how I enjoyed going sledding in the Andes and how my first week of school went quite well. But I'm not going to write about that today.

On Thursday I gave a presentation to the class about the American education system. It went well; I held peoples attention and they were interested in the topic. Afterwards about ten students stuck around to talk to me. How long did it take for someone to ask me about racism in the United States? About three minutes. We touched on school segregation and the Delmar divide before another class was coming in and I promised that we could revisit the topic in the future.

I think that there's a solid chance that of the about 100 students in this class, someone will have heard about what happened in Virginia today. I am looking at a very real possibility that I may be asked about it. My answer is not going to be some bullshit about how terrible this one event was, how bad hate and violence are, how we all need to unite and how all white people in the country aren't racist.

My job is to educate students about American culture, and my answer will be an absolute acknowledgement of the racial structures of power and personhood that are an integral part of the country. My answer will be about those who fight to maintain white power and privilege, those who fight to dismantle it in the name of what we are told America is supposed to be, and those who live as though there is no fight at all.

I know people who might just say that we don't know the full story, that it's about politics and free speech, that violence in any case is bad and no side is perfect. Critically, they might directly or indirectly deny that the United States is far, far from having dealt with racism. With the little bit of traveling I've done, the one thing I've learned most is how little I know. But one thing I can tell you: The rest of the world sees us, and they are not in denial.

Hi Family, I'm Alive and Well

Hey, better late than never on the blog posts, right? I hope at some point to write all about all the cool stuff I did in Ghana (lots of cool stuff!). Hope is the key word there. Maybe I'll at least upload some of my pictures. I'm not great at this whole consistency thing.

Anyway, I've been in Argentina a little less than a week now! I was supposed to arrive Monday morning but ended up getting here in the evening after missing a flight. On that note I'd like to give an enormous shoutout to Gommy and Brian for coming through for me in my hour of need/in every hour of need I've ever had.

I really don't fly well so when I got here I was pretty much a mess. Thankfully I have a great host mom who has been taking excellent care of me. She's a retired math teacher and widow who loves to talk and joke and cooks good food. The house is really cute and I have the whole upstairs to myself with my own bathroom so I couldn't ask for more. Also, the bathroom has a bidet and I tried it for the first time today and I don't know why we don't have more bidets back in the US.

Tomorrow I'm going with my host mom's granddaughter up into the mountains to go play in the snow. We rented snowsuits and sleds. I look wonderfully ridiculous in my snowsuit. I'll try to get a picture.

School starts Monday! I'd write about it but I'm pretty nervous so trying not to think about that too much right now! I know it will be fine but I always anticipate the worst. At least I am always pleasantly surprised when everything works out in the end.

Till next time I'll leave you with two pictures: me in front of a big statue and the view I got on the phone with Andy today as he ate chicken nuggets in his car.

One Week in Ghana

Hi all. Not too much to say yet. I wanted to make a post but I'm not much of a writer when I don't have anything specific I want to say. I've been doing mostly fun stuff since I got here. We went to a pool at a nearby hotel one day and to the beach yesterday. I've tried some good African food as well. Haven't had too much going on in terms of classes because we only have class three days a week and no class yesterday (professor is in the states) and no class today (a holiday, African Union Day).

Last Friday started out good; we went to a market and I bought some fabric to have a dress made. Then when we got home I got pretty sick and threw up. I couldn't go on a beach trip and spent the afternoon laying on the couch and feeling sorry for myself. I always get homesick when I'm not feeling well and can't be in my own bed. I called Andy and missed him terribly. I thought that I would surely never feel better and that these were about to be the longest eight weeks of my life.

Of course, the moment passed and I am feeling a-okay now. My stomach settled and though I of course will continue to miss Andy, I really am feeling right at home here and making friends. Today we are planning to go to a market that opens for the holiday and I am hoping to make at least a little progress on developing my research project. I'll write about it here when I get things a bit more fleshed out! Here are some pictures, though I haven't taken many.

Banku and fufu with soup.

Laying out by the pool.

Driving in Accra. 

At the beach.

Fashionably Late

My brother has a joke with our family that when making plans, everyone needs to remember to convert to Grace Standard Time: to estimate when Grace will arrive, take the agreed meeting time and add 30 minutes. Punctuality has never been a strength of mine. My mom says that when I was little, walking anywhere with me would take forever because I had to stop and investigate everything, pick up pretty rocks and such, and I'm still a stop-and-smell-the-flowers kind of person. So, it seems appropriate that I'm writing a blog post I've been meaning to write for a while as I wait to board a flight I was supposed to be on five days ago. I'm going to Ghana; this flight from St. Louis to Dallas will be the first leg of about 24 hours of travel. This trip (and another upcoming study abroad in Argentina) are the reason I decided to breathe some new life into this blog (also, my aunt Sarah asked me to). 

In the three years since I last wrote here, I've been taking my time. I won't write now about the end of my incredible experience in Ecuador because that really deserves its own post (which may or may not ever appear). Coming home was strange. As hard as adjusting to Ecuador was, adjusting to "home" might have been even harder. I was certainly less prepared. All my friends had gone on to college and I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. In the fall, I did a semester at community college and worked two jobs. I felt directionless but kept my schedule busy to feel like I was doing something. I thought about going abroad again; I wanted to go away to school in Europe. Then, at the movie theater where I worked, I was lucky enough to meet Andy. He nervously asked me out while I cleaned the soda fountain; we were deep in love soon after. I decided to take a semester off of school, not wanting to study before I knew what I wanted. Andy made me promise me that I wouldn't stay home and put dreams on hold because of him. 

That January (2015) I spent a few days in New York with friends and family. Between wine and Netflix binges, my aunt Katie and I browsed college websites. I looked into going to Spain and realized that my dreams had changed. I settled on Webster University, got a solid scholarship, and decided to major in anthropology. I spent that spring going from shift to shift, 14 hour days on my feet. Andy and I got an apartment; it was my first taste of bills and the adult world. I loved the responsibility, but I came to yearn for the feeling of going somewhere. I missed school. 

That summer, Andy and I went back to Ecuador to visit my host family and travel around. It was great to be back and see them and share it with him. I was fortunate enough to get to go to Europe that summer as well and visit friends I had made on exchange in Belgium, Germany and Austria. I was more than ready when school began and found that anthropology was about much more than I thought and I loved it more than I imagined I ever would. I studied German too; I loved the way it sounded when my friends spoke it. I was ahead on credits and so decided to try some programming classes. All the while, I kept taking Spanish. I had no plans to study abroad again. 

Fast forward to January 2017. I was about to begin my 4th semester at Webster and first without a class in Spanish. At the last minute, I decided I couldn't do it and signed up for a Spanish Literature seminar. I realized that I desperately missed speaking another language and that I was ready for a change. I had the opportunity to apply for a TA position at a university in Mendoza, Argentina in the fall semester and went for it. Soon after, I found out about a scholarship to study during the summer at one of Webster's campuses in Accra, Ghana. I got lucky and was accepted to both programs. 

I was supposed to leave for Ghana on May 11th, but my visa didn't arrive in time. After a pricey cancellation fee, I had five extra days with my friends and family in St. Louis. I got to watch my brother/best friend graduate from high school. I sat with my mom and grandma on the porch on Mother's Day, eating watermelon. I had lunch with a friend and enjoyed resting at home with Andy. All around the country, my former classmates graduated college. There were photos of them as little kids and clinging to their college friends, posts about starting careers and how quickly time has disappeared. I just finished my sophomore year. Those five days of waiting made me realize how incredibly lucky I am. They made me glad for my delays, for my tardiness, for my meandering through life. Sometimes you have to trade off taking your time and being on time. 

Assuming I have no problems traveling. I'll arrive tomorrow evening in Accra and I'm eager to get there. I can't wait to dive into the experience and make new friends. I'll be the last in the group to arrive but I'm not worried; I like to think there's something to be said for being late.  

I Wrote Something

So it’s been three-and-half months since I wrote anything here. There are multiple reasons for this. First off, let’s call a spade a spade: I am lazy, and writing is work. Another reason would probably be that as much as I would love to document things, I am generally so busy being in the life thing that I just don’t think to step outside myself to create future nostalgia opportunities. Before I was an exchange student I read some blogs to get a sense of what it might be like. I noticed a general trend of posts becoming less frequent and then stopping, so I’m not surprised I did the same. A lot of them said that things just started to feel normal, that things became like part of normal life. I think that’s what’s intended with a high-school level exchange. That you immerse and assimilate, grow into this new life.

That’s sort of what’s happened to me except not at all. Rather than start feeling like my life here is my normal life, my entire concept of normality has disappeared. Maybe that sounds like some really great non-conformist sentiment, but this feeling is a whole lot bigger than that. I’d say it’s sort of like the moment you realize you’re no longer a child. But when you have this moment, it’s not like you’ve crossed over a thin line and suddenly you’re a fully realized adult. Far from it. You’re just in nowhere-land.

I am in nowhere-land. This is not my normal life. I’m not telling lies here—I have not assimilated to Ecuadorian culture. I have adjusted; I get along just fine. But I do not belong here, and to pretend that I do would have to mean acting like someone I’m just not, and I will never be comfortable with that. But that’s not to say I haven’t changed. Oh yes, I have changed. And the thing is that I’ve passed some point-of-no-return where there is no going home. I would say that about three months ago I could have gone home and it would have been different; there would have been a lot of little surface things: I would have been more aware of this, that would have bothered me when it didn’t before. But somewhere between then and now, the entire world shifted under my feet and I woke up in an entire new reality. I say that I’ve changed, but maybe I really haven’t, maybe people never really change, maybe just our perspectives change. And when your perspective changes, your entire universe is one that resembles your familiar before, but is inherently different in a way that defies description.

My life here didn’t become normal; it became real. It’s part of a new reality that I have to navigate. One where I no longer get the comfort of unquestioned beliefs. There is no default. Home feels like such a distant place; the only America I can feel connected to is the one I remember through child’s eyes, the one I will always cherish. The person I suddenly am isn’t part of there, isn’t part of here, isn’t part of anywhere. Everything is so big and so small all in the same moment. Even surrounded by people I love, I’ve never felt so alone. I’ve never felt so confidently alone. It’s a strange sense of being completely lost and yet absolutely certain that you will arrive.

That’s another reason I haven’t written here—everything happening in my head is so far beyond me that I don’t even know how to begin. I am (as I suppose I always have been) living two lives, the one outside my head and the one inside. A lot of things have happened in the outside life that I could have written about here no problem: factual descriptions of trips, holidays, cultural differences, etc. I could have written it all and trimmed the edges with emotion and humor and it would have been fine. But then there’s this whole other inner life where things have just been beyond words. And the two worlds mesh and affect each other and it’s so exhausting to flesh it all out, and even when I do, do I really want to share it? For what? To inform people back home? What’s home? This is my life and things happen that are important to me and now that everything has become so real, it’s kind of private. I just can’t see this exchange as like this year apart from everything where I’m like, “Wow! Ecuador! Look at that!” Now it’s part of this weird life that becomes who I am.

Does any of this make sense to anyone reading it? I have no idea.

I’m going home in a little less than eight weeks. Some days that seems like nothing, some days it still seems like quite a while. How do I feel about going home? Great question. First off, there is no home. The life I had built for myself has essentially dissolved. Everyone has moved away, high school is over. I find it eerie how a little world so tightly woven as high school just dissipates so quickly. Like it was never really there at all. It seemed so real then—what does it say about our present? If you’re wondering, I’m doing a year at Meramec and then transferring to somewhere. Don’t ask me where I’m looking to transfer; I don’t have an answer for you. I think I’ll be arriving come June in a place that resembles one I used to know but isn’t. I can’t see it as going back; there is no going back. It’s part of this whole future that’s even shakier than my present.

Like I said, I’m nowhere. But I’m not lost. I always know where I’m going, I’m just never aware.

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.