The last five or six weeks of my time abroad could be described as a whirlwind in which my schedule, hectic even for SIT’s standards, hardly allowed me the time to pause and reflect on the enormity of all I had experienced and learned and how quickly my time in Chile was coming to an end. As someone who tends to compartmentalize both time and experiences, separating myself from each “chapter” or “setting” in my life, starting the process of reflecting on my time in Chile, especially now that it is over, has been a slightly difficult process. This blog post is an attempt, although by no means a complete one, to gather some of my favorite takeaways from studying abroad.
The busyness of my final weeks in Chile stemmed from the fourth and ultimate course of any SIT program: an individual project, either a research project (ISP) or internship, that takes place during the last month, requiring students to become fully-immersed in the people, academics, and professional life of their host country. During this time, I chose to conduct a research project, revisiting (this time solo) Putre in northern Chile to study the perception and beliefs of menstruation in the pueblo and to create a guide and graphic design to document the information gathered through interviews and conversations with locals. After my two weeks in Putre, I returned for three days to my host family in a pueblo in southern Chile (the site of our second excursion) to spend time with friends (and “family”) and explore some of the neighboring national parks. When I returned to Valpo for my last week and a half in Chile, my time was strictly dedicated to finishing my project (writing and designing over 30 pages in Spanish in 6 days) and enjoying the last of my time with my friends, host family, and the city.
Despite the hectic schedule, and the occasional bouts of ISP-induced crying, the majority of my most moving experiences, proudest moments, and favorite memories occurred during the last third of the program. It was in this period that something in my mindset shifted, and I finally, after two emotionally-grueling months, felt connected and at ease with my host family, my friends both in and out of the program, the city, and the language. Of course, this long-awaited revelation made for a bittersweet moment, as I finally felt as though I had a home right as I was about to leave it.
I think the profound impact of my ISP period is attributable to the time I spent traveling and working independently, traveling alone and spending my time at my homestays completely separated from any of my fellow SIT students or any other English-speakers. My ISP site was in northern-most Chile, a trip that required two, two-hour bus rides, a flight, and, given the limited bus schedule to Putre (one bus every morning at 7 am), a full day and night in the city of Arica. To travel to Chapod following my research, I had to take two additional flights. Before this trip, I had never traveled alone before, and had considered myself too impatient/easily stressed to organize even a weekend trip with friends, yet I had committed myself to the experience of traveling alone in a country that didn’t speak my own language.
It was a process that was somehow simultaneously tranquil and reflective, bad-ass and thrilling, and terrifying and anxiety-ridden, as my thoughts would range from introspective musings to recognition that I was traveling – and traveling successfully – alone to realizations of the gravity and risks of what I was doing and the very real consequences of what could happen if something went wrong. It also was, at times, simply hard and exhausting, with experiences such as waking up at 3 am to head to the airport or landing at 10 pm with the intent of spending a night in the Santiago airport only to find out that check-ins don’t start until 2 am and that the sticky table of an airport Dunkin Donuts would be my bed for the next four hours (true story). Yet the tumultuous emotions and sometimes less-than-perfect conditions only made it that much more rewarding when I finally arrived at my destination.
The trip was filled with countless, similar “little” victories, moments, whether successfully resolving issues with my hostel reservation (for the second time) in Spanish after 4 hours of traveling and getting lost in the middle of the city at night and following two very nice strangers to a taxi service (another true story) or figuring out the bus schedule by asking a local, and not reading an English source online, that, for me, served as tangible and clear evidence of the strides I was making in improving my Spanish and becoming a more-capable and independent person in general and made every struggle feel like it was worth celebrating.
Finally, throughout the entirety of my two and a half weeks alone, save a few calls to my mother to let her know I was alive, I spoke only in Spanish and, most importantly, I spoke a lot, starting conversations with waiters, strangers on the bus, Uber drivers, whatever source of practice I could find. These conversations and observations, fostered by the fact I was traveling alone, revealed fascinating stories, such as the restaurant owner who lived in Miami for two years before returning to take care of his ill father, and who knew of friends fleeing the U.S. following the election of Trump, and quirks, such as the small old woman next to me on a bus that somehow knew every teen or young person that rode the bus, of individuals who normally would have simply been extras in the background, strangers who I otherwise would have never approached. Overall, they were experiences that, in such short time, did more to improve my Spanish than any of my classes at Rollins.
In total, the ISP period was one of the hardest things I’ve done, both academically and emotionally. Throughout the whole time I was continually pushed beyond my comfort zone or of what I thought I was capable. Yet now that it’s over, I have a newfound sense of confidence and independence, a feeling that I can do anything that might have once before terrified me, or seemed to difficult or uncomfortable, because now I’ve done it all – and in a different language.
Chao, pescao,
Kenzie
P.S. If you want to check out my final project, here’s a link: https://issuu.com/kenziehelmick/docs/revista_final_helmick