Final Reflection
I identified my love for travel halfway through college, when I studied abroad for the first time in Rome. I had never traveled internationally before and spending a summer traipsing through Italy yielded a decisive shift in my priorities, relationships, and imagined future. After that program, I wanted more than anything to study abroad again during college. I researched every possible opportunity and was sure that there was no program that would work with my schedule. Then I got an email announcing a business program in Argentina scheduled for the following winter. It was not a perfect fit. I had to sacrifice my second focus in marketing, and part of my final year living in the same city as many of my friends. Coincidentally, I had just finished reading a memoir, in which the author raved about Buenos Aires. She painted a picture of a city that was vibrant, soulful, and invigorating. I wanted to see it for myself, so I made it work.
I loved living in Buenos Aires because it operates at a pace of its own and is unlike anywhere I’ve ever been. Somedays its upbeat and cosmopolitan, with millions of people commuting into the city on the widest avenue in the world – which I just so happened to cross every day on the way to class. At other times the streets would be nearly empty. Palermo, a neighborhood that would be buzzing all night, was a creative dream in the early morning with countless coffee shops, bright walls, and empty streets. On Sundays, the only thing that seemed to be open in the entire city was the San Telmo market. So, walking miles down the row of tents and shopping until the heat was unbearable became a weekend routine. To live in such a city reignited my passion for art. I had more time to create, and no shortage of inspiration. I loved visiting new museums, learning the history of the murals decorating the streets, and simply appreciating the idiosyncrasies of a new city. I was encouraged to try any medium possible to capture its spirit.
And like in any good travel saga, there was no shortage of obstacles. For one, I got to test out the study abroad insurance after a rough fall in a casual soccer game. Luckily, I got away with only a quick consultation in broken English, a couple of x-rays, and a sling that became the punchline of every joke for the next two weeks. There was also the time that five of us flew up to Northern Argentina for the weekend, and were met with a manual rental car, a flashflood, and a dinner check that had to paid for in cash we didn’t have. That was not even the half of it. Despite the comical list of complications, it was my favorite weekend trip.
However, traveling through Patagonia was the most empowering. Navigating the matrix of towns, busses, parks, and trails was a big ask of inexperienced hikers. But all the planning, combined with all we could not plan for, made the days even more remarkable. I will forever remember celebrating my 22nd birthday walking across the Perito Moreno glacier, toasting with whiskey poured over ice gathered from beneath our feet. Our guide said it was the only place in the world where the ice in your glass would be older than the whiskey. I know that is a cheesy line, but I loved it.
One thing I will always remember about my study abroad in Argentina is the way that it all came to an end. We were on a bus heading back to Puerto Natales, after a full day of hiking in Torres del Paine National Park. It was nighttime and I had dozed off but was woken by the stressed whispers of my friends, leaning across the aisle comparing texts they had finally received after twelve hours without reception. Flights were being cancelled out of Argentina, and we knew that was about to make our return much more difficult. Long story short, we left Puerto Natales two days later, as scheduled, but instead of staying in Santiago for a couple days as planned, we got on four separate flights back to the States, departing no more than an hour after we landed. I was the last one of us to leave Santiago, so I wandered the airport for a few hours, and boarded my flight home just before midnight. It was a bittersweet ending to an irreplaceable winter.
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