Mark Twain once said

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

That’s the spirit I began this trip with when I had my sister drop me off at the Portland airport at 4 a.m. to catch my 6 o’clock flight. Because Portland is an hour drive for us, this resulted in my waking at 2 a.m. to get ready, after having finally fallen asleep at 11 the night before. So on 3 hours sleep, I showed up at the airport to discover that my flight had been cancelled last minute. In the midst of a mass of angry people, I sat around for 8 hours before being able to catch a flight out.

Tired and hungry, I arrived in Houston to discover that my connecting flight was delayed another hour and a half. Within the first 10 minutes at the airport I encountered no less than 8 people grumpily attending their business with others. My combination of hours without food, 3 hours of sleep, and the stress of a cancelled flight, delayed flight, and negative energy in this place feeling so far from home finally got to me. I missed my family and I started to wonder if I had made the right decision in studying abroad. I tearfully tried to Skype my husband, only to discover that the Houston airport, unlike Portland, does not offer free wifi to its travelers. I was very, very low already, and I hadn’t even left the States.

My 10 hour flight to Buenos Aires now left at 10 p.m. and arrived at 10 a.m. local time the following morning. Several factors led to very little rest throughout the night, and my fears began to compound. I stared out into the inky black night, watching the steady pulse of the airplane’s light fight nearly constant wing wobbling turbulance. It was a disturblingly fitting metaphor to my situation. There was a part of me, growing bigger and darker as the minutes slowly passed, wishing I could turn back time and not sign on for this study abroad adventure. The fight was already feeling like too much.

As I gazed out at the eastern sky, a sliver of dark purple light began to appear on the horizon around 5 a.m. As it crept up and began to illuminate the area in front of me I saw for the first time the lines of landscape below me. We were flying over Peru, and the contours below me were peaks of the foothills of the Andes mountains! I was looking at the Peruvian Andes, colored in various tones of pink, purple, and blue. It was one of the most gorgeous things I have ever seen. As the sun continued to rise I was mesmerized, all the while thinking in disbelief “I am watching a sunrise over South America”. South America, something that had previously existed only in stories of rainforests, tropical animals, and exotic adventures was unfolding like a magical storybook miles below me. I was in complete awe, and began to once again feel my sense of adventure awakening.

After maneuvering through immigration and customs in Beunos Aires with relative ease, my luck continued as I found the counter for the bus company and purchased my ticket successfully en Espanol. Aside from getting brutally ripped off while exchanging dollars for pesos (something my new Argentinean friends have relentlessly continued to shake their heads and cluck in disgust at), my experience was improving. I had entered an unfamiliar country, begun to converse with others in a foreign language, and was about to board a bus which would carry me to my ultimate destination city.

A woman sat down next to me, and the bus took off on our 4 hour journey to La Cuidad de Rosario. I was exhausted, and contemplated plugging into my iPod and observing the new landscape. Instead, I did something unprecedented for me: I turned to my seat partner, opened my mouth, and began a tentative conversation in Spanish. My new friend, Susana, didn’t speak a word of English.

Throughout the next 4 hours I made my first Argentinean friends. Susana, it turned out, was a schoolteacher who had lived her entire life in Rosario. She was returning with her 2 friends (also schoolteachers) from a short getaway (we are currently in the middle of the Argentinean schools’ winter vacation). We talked about our towns, cultures, teaching experiences, and food. She pointed things out along the way from the perspective of a lifelong resident (“see that billboard for alfajores? Alfajores are special cookies in Argentina. They are wonderful. You must make sure to try many different kinds while you’re here!”)

By the time we arrived in Rosario I had become the unofficial adoptee of the teachers on the bus. Everytime someone else spoke to me, they assisted and rapidly helped me when my words did not come freely. As we were dropped off one by one throughout the city (I was last on the bus) they made sure to point out landmarks and all the little things that residents see as most important in their hometown. As a result of their conversations with me, I made several more friends. They left me with contact information, huge hugs, and kisses on my cheek. As I pulled away in the bus from each drop off, they stood on the curb frantically waving and shouting “chau, chau” with passion.

And so, I arrived at my hotel no longer a stranger in a new city. After all, how can one be a stranger with such a fantastic handful of local friends? I had now been kissed by no less than four residents of Rosario. What began as a lonely morning on a shaky plane in the darkness of unchartered waters ended with new friendships and beautiful gestures of love.

Lao Tzu said

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.

Well, my journey of several thousand miles quickly followed that first step with kisses, hugs, passionate conversations and new friendships. Hola Argentina!

Jessie