I’m writing from the sofa in my host parents’ apartment after a day of visa processing and classes. It seems like a long time ago that I met up with four other Dickinsonians in the Miami airport to head to Ecuador. In reality, though, that was the end of June, and here I sit barely at the end of August, in Argentina. In that time, we have trecked through the Amazon Jungle, tried cocoa, fresh off the tree, hiked through mountains in the Andes, tried cuy, danced to a variety of new music, sampled regional wine, climbed Inca ruins, surfed sand dunes, met monkeys, parrots, dogs, scorpions, snakes, dogs, pumas, crocodiles, dogs and llamas. We’ve also adopted two new homes in South America, complete with families, and taken classes in Spanish, but also Andian music, literature and Latin dance.

From the top of a battlefield in Ecuador, my host father gestured towards the ocean, and from a fire side in Argentina, my host mother demonstrated how to scatter the coals for Asado.  We’re not yet half way through our semester, and I can already say with certainty that this journey has changed me. Every day is a learning experience, a privilege and a challenge. It’s caused me to reflect on my understanding of my nation, the world and my own place in them both. It’s forced me to confront my own privilege as well to witness its effects. It’s allowed me to observe new perspectives, systems and ideas not only different from those I’m acquainted with but also, in some cases, better. It’s challenged my flexibility to learn, to absorb, to stay awake, to eat and to grow.  There are a lot of things we hear about studying abroad- trips of a life time, friends from all over, great food- but some of what they don’t tell you is about how uncomfortable it can be, or tiring, to constantly be pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

To put studying abroad into so few words doesn’t do it justice. It’s not just that we are studying another hemisphere, but that we are living here. Our daily functions have to be translated along with our homework, and the speed at which I am learning a language and culture is beyond that which I’ve ever experienced before. Last night, some of us went to a language exchange at a local bar. This means that people who want to learn English come and for an hour we all speak English and for an hour we all speak Spanish-theoretically. In reality, it was much more disorganized and more fun than that makes it sound. I found myself switching between Spanish and English with ease and was surprised to find myself more comfortable answering the questions of strangers in Spanish than in English. Towards the end of the night, I was asked the inevitable questions of my thoughts on the current political situation. This lead to a deep conversation in which the two Mendozian gentlemen I’d been exchanging conversation with for the evening expressed their love for the United States, describing it as a perfect country. What followed was an impassioned conversation, all in Spanish, in which the sociology major and patriot that I am did my best to explain that my country, beloved as it is to me, is nowhere near perfect. I was as shocked as they were to find myself in a bar, in Argentina, explaining everything from the second amendment to our unique national parks. It’s an example of the reflections I’ve had the opportunity to make in just these first couple of months. Not only have I learned a bit more about wine (apparently 2014 was a great year for Malbec), but I’ve also seen my country (and our systems and culture) and therefore in some ways myself as a local representative, in the mirror that is another nation and its people.

So, Dickinson, I miss you and your mac and cheese, short campus walks and friendly faces. I’m incredibly excited to return in a year and throw myself into applying and living everything I’ll have learned. I know that I am just beginning to understand all that I don’t yet know.