Se Fue

This is only my second post, and I’m already breaking the rules by choosing a phrase instead of a word. I’m also beginning this entry by apologizing, because I realized that the last post was incoherent and quite hard to understand.

To introduce myself in a more comprehensive manner, my name is Sabine, I’m 17, and I’m a Rotary Youth Exchange student. I’m from Maine, in the US, and I’m technically in my senior year of high school in the States. I’ll be living in Colombia until June of next year, and throughout my year, I will be completely immersing in Colombian culture and Spanish. The Rotary Youth Exchange program is one of the coolest opportunities I had ever heard of. I get to travel to other places in Colombia (including the Amazon Rainforest, my dream), interact with other exchange students, and I’m completely cared for by my host family (which I believe I switch in 6 months). I’m not allowed to come home at all in the year, and my family from Maine can’t visit until the last quarter of the exchange year. Also, an iconic staple of Rotary is the blue blazer, which every student has. We decorate these with pins from our home country, then trade them with students from all over the world.

That is the beauty of the Rotary Youth Exchange program. I still can’t believe my luck that I’m able to be a part of this experience, and it’s already been a month.

Speaking of, today marks exactly one month since I arrived in Cúcuta, and I wanted to share the story of my first day in Colombia. (Colombia, not Cúcuta). On August 6, I had two flights. One from Boston to Atlanta GA, and one from Atlanta to Bogota. It was about 3 PM when I got to Bogota. When my host family and I were organizing the flight plans, we realized that my host dad, Mauricio, could meet me in Bogota since he had a flight there and we could travel to Cúcuta together, and I was insanely grateful that I didn’t have to deal with the Bogota airport alone. He met me outside of the gate, and we got to know each other over my first meal in Colombia: a savory crepe with tomato and cheese.

We were in Bogota for 6 hours. I was exhausted out of my mind, it was the first encounter I had with the language barrier, and the airport was completely overwhelming. After the 6 hours had ended I was more than ready to get on the plane for an hour flight and arrive in my new home. The minutes were creeping closer to boarding time, we were sitting at the gate, and I was itching to board. Yet we didn’t move. Because Mauricio spoke rapid Spanish that I understand almost nothing at points, and I assumed that the Bogota airport worked in a different manner, I didn’t say anything. Something had probably happened, and my host father, who was well-experienced with South American travel, had it all covered.

We were about 20 minutes until departure, and at this point I just assumed that the flight was a bit delayed. Even my mom, who I was texting for reassurance, said that I should just trust my travel partner. Everything was okay.

About 10 minutes after the original flight was supposed to depart, I learned that there was no “original flight”, because there was no rescheduled one. Because we had missed the flight. Here’s how I learned this little piece of information: Mauricio got up from his seat, going to what I assumed was the bathroom, and came back about 5 minutes later. He kneeled in front of me, concern in his eyes and regret in his grin, and delivered the news very carefully. “El avión,” he began, as if I would blow away if he said it too strongly, “se fue”. Now, yes, the language barrier had been difficult between him and I, but there was nothing I didn’t understand about what he just said.

Missing a plane is never that big of a deal, but because there were such specific rules about the flights as a Rotary student, and so much coordination with the travel company we used, I was scared out of my mind. My thoughts flooded my head, thinking about if I could refund the entire trip, how I would tell my host family in Cúcuta that I couldn’t come, how embarrassing it would be to go back home after saying goodbye. I immediately got on the phone with the travel company, tears streaming down my face and my host dad wiping them off. I couldn’t believe where I was at that moment. My first few hours in a country I would be living in for a year, and here I was, crying to two different men that I barely knew.

We somehow tracked down my baggage (I had no idea how that was possible) and I learned that Mauricio had a brother that lived in Bogota. Knowing almost nothing that was going to happen, I got into a taxi and we left the airport.

And that is how I spent another unexpected 24 hours in Bogota. I didn’t know whose bed I was sleeping in, what time I was to wake up tomorrow, when the flight the next day was, or even if we had a flight the next day. I really believed that if this was how the year started, nothing could really go right. Except, the day in Bogota, which was exactly a month ago today, turned out to be a good thing.

I met Mauricio’s brother, a pilot who spoke a bit of English, his wife, and his two kids. I got to speak with him a lot about his travels, about Colombian culture, and we got breakfast and went shopping. We passed by a marketplace, where I tried delicious mangosteenas and a man gifted me a bracelet with the colors of the Colombian flag. And finally, after saying goodbye to the family and thanking them for their kindness, finally, at 5 pm, we were on the plane to Cúcuta.

When I think back to this day, it’s hard to imagine that that was how my exchange year began. Now, my life in Cúcuta is completely different than that day, and that terrifying feeling of not knowing anything feels so far away. But I’ll still be grateful of how the day went, and I can use it as a reference point for how much I’ve changed. My Spanish has improved, the terrible anxiety and overwhelming thoughts have diminished tremendously, and I can’t imagine feeling that shock today.

Anyway, there were a lot of great moments this week. Friday was the English spelling bee and song contest, where I got to be a judge for the competition. It was so amazing to see the kids express their talent, and I talked to one of my English teachers for a long time. He’s a great person to talk to, since we have a lot of similarities and we both have an immense interest in learning each other’s native languages. We talk about idioms in both English and Spanish, things that we don’t understand in the other language, and pop culture that comes from both cultures.

Last night, I got to meet two other Rotary students, which I was elated to do so. I met a girl from Brazil and a girl from Belgium, and the event took place at the Brazilian girl’s house. There were a lot of other people there too, and we spent the night listening to Colombian music and dancing Colombian dances. A dance teacher actually came to the party, and she handed out long skirts to the girls and taught us Cumbia. It was such a blast, even though the dances were difficult at times. I’d love to learn more types of Colombian dances because it’s such a beautiful part of the culture.

Tomorrow is the start of my third full week of school. It’s insane how quickly time passes here in Cúcuta, and actually I’ve realized that here, I am hyper-aware of time. I think about what I was doing two weeks ago, what date it’ll be in three, and how many weeks in total I’ll be in Colombia. (44 in all). This is why today, it’s crazy to say that it’s been a whole month since I arrived. And I’m so grateful for everything that’s happened in between.

I still haven’t taken off the bracelet.