Thankful

This post may seem to be a bit random, but just go with it.  One night this past week, I was watching the evening news with my parents during my visit home.  One of the segments announced that President Obama officially won the November 2012 election (old news, right?).  Apparently, Congress met this week to officially count the Electoral Votes from November, thereby announcing Obama as the winner of the presidential election.  While this may seem unimportant (we kind of already figured out the results of the election back on election night), it reminded me of something…

The night of the election, November 6, 2012, I flipped the news on to catch the coverage as results were coming in from the polling booths.  And I was struck with a thought (bear with me, please).The entire nation was watching that night as results were coming in from each polling station.  Each polling station added up to the counties that were turned different colors indicating the victor, and then the states changed colors to reflect which candidate would be receiving that state’s electoral votes. 

But now think about it in reverse – each state is made up of counties is made up of polling stations is made up of people.  Made up of individuals who went out to cast a vote on who their next president would be.  My vote – that of a young woman who is still figuring out her place in life – became a part of history that night, regardless of who I voted for.

Now that is a kind of a neat thought.  And while it may seem so obvious, I was thankful for this realization that November night.  That night, our nation watched as each individual cast a ballot, and as each ballot added to others to declare a winner and a loser.  And I am very thankful to be part of a nation that stops everything else to watch as these individuals acted upon one of the fundamental freedoms of our country.

New Beginnings

The New Year always brings an array of cheesy wishes for a better, bigger, different year.  Frankly, New Year’s Eve is not a big deal to me (I spent the night hanging out with my family at home, crazy, I know), but I have my own new beginnings to celebrate.  And they just happen to fall around the same time as the New Year.

Last month, I (finally!) graduated from college – woo hoo! While I have been done with my coursework since August, I was unable to get my diploma until December.  I decided to spend my last term of college studying abroad in Chile and since international transcripts take about three months to transfer home, I didn’t get that coveted piece of paper proving that I was DONE until December.  After spending the past few months trying to explain the bizarre situation to employers – and anyone else who was asking – I can now officially say I am a college graduate.  What a relief.

Over the course of the few months I was in college-graduate-limbo, the Lord blessed me immensely.  About two weeks before I received my diploma, I started my first big-girl job.  I will be spending the next few months teaching middle school reading at an inner-city school in my neck of the woods.  I started at this charter school as an intern in September, and was offered this position as a result of the time and work I put in.  I am so fortunate to a.) have a job, and b.) to be doing what I love.

Throughout high school (and let’s be honest, the majority of college too), I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.  I knew where my passions lay, but I didn’t know how or where I was going to put them into practice.  And then came along education reform.  And I knew that’s what I wanted to do.  I have been exposed to poverty in a variety of ways and in a variety of places over the past eight years, and have felt a desire to serve the underserved and to be a light of the Good News in some pretty dark places.  Comparing what I’ve seen in some rough neighborhoods to my own upbringing brought up some pretty big differences that I couldn’t ignore.  One of the biggest differences is the quality of education.  I am technically the product of public schools, but the school was phenomenal, and many outsiders assumed it was a private school.  But the public schools in inner-city areas are another story.

When I say that there are serious problems in public schools, people often ask me what I mean by that.  And I tell them about some of the students I am now working with.  I have sixth grade students who are 14 years old, and still failing.  I have sixth grade students who read at a kindergarten level.  I have students who live in shelters.  Something is wrong with that picture.  And I want to be a part of that change, no matter how small the part.

The school I am working at is a charter school, and is dedicated to changing the outcome for these students.  I am so thankful to be working with a team of passionate, hard-working, and innovative educators, and I look forward to all that I will continue to learn from them.  2013 will be bringing some big changes (read: challenges) for me, and I am anxious to see what I will be taught this year.  Stay tuned!

Taking Chances

Last night, I had the privilege to be at another high school swim meet.  For the second year in a row, I have helped coach an inner-city swim and dive team, and it has been such a joy.  Yesterday, we had a swim meet against two other inner-city teams in the city, and it gave us an opportunity to swim all of our less-experienced athletes who don’t get much swim time in the more competitive meets.  And let me tell you, they did a great job.

For many of them, this past month has been completely new to them.  Most of these less-experienced athletes had never swum a lap in their life, and now they are swimming over 4000 yards a day.  Talk about a challenge, but they have stepped up to this challenge with such a positive attitude.

And last night, during the girls JV 50 Free, I almost cried.  That’s right.  I was brought to tears during a swim meet.  Not exactly the norm.  This event was full with swimmers who struggled to make it the two laps.  Their strokes were far from perfect. Flip turns just didn’t happen. Their starts had a closer resemblance to a belly-flop.  Some of it was more splashing than swimming.  And yet, it was absolutely beautiful.

Here was a group of six girls from three different high schools who took a chance.  Humans are not made for water.  We were designed for dry land, and yet every day, they throw themselves into a pool.  They listen to feedback from their coaches.  They look up to more-experienced swimmers for tips and encouragement.  They push themselves to just keep swimming, swimming, swimming (thank you, “Finding Nemo”, for your helpful mantra), even when they are tired, even when they just want to crawl onto the deck and rest.  They have taken a chance, and are growing in leaps and bounds.

Kudos to you ladies, who make me so proud and remind me why I coach swimming.

Rainy Days.

There’s nothing like a rainy day to get the memories rolling.  Chilly, wet days like today remind me of most of my time in Chile.  While I enjoyed plenty of gorgeous, sunny days, I definitely remember being bundled up in my rain coat more often than not, especially during my last few weeks.  My transition back to life in the States, even with how unpredictable it has been, has been a relatively smooth one, which has been such a blessing.  But I definitely find myself missing Chile and the adventures I had while I was there. 

I miss sitting in our kitchen with my gringa roommate, chatting about our lives at home and getting to know each other better over mugs of hot cocoa and spoons of manjar.  I miss my walk to (and even up the giant hill from) the metro.  I miss the daily hugs from Mariela, one of my supervisors at my internship.  I miss being close to the beach all the time, even if it meant I was always smelling nasty fish.  I miss hearing my host dad sing around the house.  I miss the helado de canela that I found at a little coffee shop.  I miss the sounds of music (mostly good) on my metro rides.  I miss the laughter of the kids running around our house, playing escondido.

And now that I find myself in the US, I have noticed how much my time in Chile has changed me.  There are so many moments, every day, where I want to blurt out in the middle of a conversation, “that reminds me of ____ in Chile”.  And even though I have some great, understanding friends, I know that I can’t talk about Chile all the time, or they are just going to get sick of it.  And when that happens, I become a bit upset.  No one knows what I experienced.  None of my friends or family will ever be able to share in my memories of the things I saw, heard, did.  And that is a bit of a lonely realization.  And when those thoughts start running through my mind, I have to make a conscious decision to remember where I put my hope and faith – not in this world, but in the work done on the cross for me.  I have been told to “be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified […], for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). 

I am not alone. 

“For surely I am with you always, even to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

From one adventure to the next

Once again I am standing on American soil.  Actually, I’ve been on American soil for ten days. 

So, a little update on my final week in Chile: I climbed a volcano.  I mentioned preparing for the trek in my last post, but I actually made it to the top of Volcán Villarica (feel free to Google it).  And it was the hardest (physically) thing I have done in my life – even harder than running a half marathon.  It had rained for two weeks in the town of Pucón, which meant two weeks worth of fresh snow on the volcano, so we had to create our own path the entire way.  It took us six hours to reach the top, and it felt like climbing up stairs, but the “steps” were too far apart most of the time (or at least, for someone of my height… or lack thereof).  Most of the time, the snow was deeper than my knees, so I used my ice pick to help stabilize me on the climb up.  After the long climb, we finally reached the top!  We were unable to see the lake of lava in the crater, but we did have some pretty great views of the surrounding area.

At the top of Volcán Villarica, with the crater behind me (and steam from the lava). 

After climbing up a snow-covered volcano for six hours, what is the best way to get down?  Well, sledding of course.  In our huge back-packs (like, the 20+ pound back-packing bags) was a little baby sled that was about the size of your butt.  And for two hours, we sled down, using our ice picks as brakes.  After getting snow sprayed into my face (and down my jacket… and up my pant-legs… and in my shoes) for two hours, we made it back down to the base of the volcano, looking behind to what we had just done.  Like I said, it was incredibly hard, but it was totally worth the exhaustion and was one of the coolest things I’ve done in my life.

Other folks from my hostel who climbed the volcano.  I'm on the far right.

View of Volcán Villarica from town.

While that adventure was a blast and was an experience of a life-time, life State-side is a little less adventurous.  I am currently rocking the unemployed status, which means life is incredibly up-in-the-air for me right now.  But surprisingly enough, that’s okay.  Yes, things are pretty unpredictable right now, but this is my current adventure – figuring out where the Lord wants me next.

Blogging this past summer was a blast for me (and hopefully you enjoyed reading).  I probably won’t update this very often, but maybe there will be some more writing – and blogging – for me in the future.  I guess we’ll find out. 

Un abrazo,

Elise

One last hooray.

Dearest friends and family,

As I write, I am unwinding from one adventure, and am preparing myself for the next.  These last 72 hours in Chile are going to be wonderful.

Today, I went white-water rafting for the first time, on a level 4 river.  It was crazy! The river was beautiful, and it was surrounded by gorgeous, snow-capped mountains.  And I learned that the water was incredibly cold when I went for my little ¨swim¨ part-way through. One of the level 4 rapids included a ¨hydraulic¨(? Some things just get lost in translation with Spanish...) that our group didn´t manuever quite as well as we should have, and a few of us took a dunk.  But it was totally worth it.

And now, I am packing my bag in preparation to climb the volcano tomorrow with some people from my hostel.  Let me tell you, the adventures never end in Chile.  The past few days have been raining a lot, which meant a lot of activities were unavailable for the past few days, but tomorrow is supposed to be perfect weather to climb the volcano.  We start at 6:45 in the morning, and climb up 2800m for 5 hours through the snow, before sledding back down.  I´ll be sure to keep you posted on the details of this next adventure :)

Love to all,
Elise

Bucket List

I have officially been in Chile for two months, and it has come to my attention that there were two experiences I had not yet had.  But not to worry, I have now experienced these last two things:

One.  Pulgas.  More commonly known as fleas.  That´s right folks, I got fleas.  I had hoped that if I didn´t pet the stray dogs and ran away instead (not hard for me to do), and hoped for the best, I would remain flea-free for my entire trip.  But alas, those pesky little pulgas got the best of me.  I have no idea when or where I got them (I have been in countless trains, buses, cars, and cities this past week), but the 16+ bites on my leg leave no room for doubt.  Mom and Dad, I hope you´re ready for all the laundry I´ll be doing when I get home :)

Two.  The south. During my time here, I lived in central Chile (and I love it dearly), and traveled to the Atacama desert (see the earlier post about that adventure).  But I was still lacking time in the south of Chile.  The land starts to break up the further south you go, as it turns into the region of Patagonia.  And my study abroad program ended last week, so I decided to travel to southern Chile for my final week here.  I made it to one of the northern-most towns of Patagonia, and I am enjoying the lake and the beautiful scenery, when it´s not raining.  Which it kind does all the time during the winter in the south.  So when it rains the hardest, I curl up by the fire, drinking tea and reading a book.  Rough life, huh?

I will continue to travel for this week (one more city to go before Santiago!), enjoying the paisaje and relaxing by fire-places.  And this weekend, I fly home!  I land in the wonderful land of the United States of America, bright and early on Sunday morning.  USA, I hope you´re ready for me :)

Love to you all, and I look forward to talking to you soon when I am state-side once again!

¡Chao!