Imagine being surrounded by people who only speak a language that you are mediocre at. That was me during the summer after my sophomore year of high school. I was only 16 years old and had just completed two years of Spanish–the minimum amount of years required to volunteer with the organization Amigos de las Américas. Once accepted as a volunteer, I trained for seven months prior to the six weeks I would be living in the community of La Pita in Matagalpa, Nicaragua.
When I arrived in Nicaragua, I was speechless about the fact that I was actually here since it seemed too far away in time to ever come. I got panic attacks and thoughts kept running through my mind, “Oh my god, I’m actually here,” “I can’t do this; why did I think I can do this,” “I’m not ready for this. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” I knew I would face some challenges–mostly my lack of Spanish skills, but I was hoping for a great experience.
Those worries went away when I arrived in La Pita and was welcomed with hugs from my host family. When I walked inside their house and gazed around, I noticed tarps hanging as wall separators as well as strips of wood nailed together acting as the front door. Overwhelmed with the many new faces and names I needed to remember and being in a different environment where I could only speak Spanish to communicate with my host family, I smiled awkwardly as they each embraced me in a bear hug.
As the days went on, I got to know my host family a little better. At first, I had no idea what they were saying because they spoke very fast. Some of my reactions included:
“Can you repeat please?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite get that.”
“What?”
“Uh, I don’t know what you just said.”
My face would turn pink as I would say one of those responses. Yet again, I don’t understand what the heck they’re saying. They’re literally speaking gibberish.
In a way, my struggles with the language challenged me to go outside of my comfort zone and immerse myself in a new culture. I realized the hard way that this was actually real life and that people really do only speak these languages. This was not Spanish class anymore; if I do not know a word, I can not just speak in English for help. I had to work through it myself. I found my way by either drawing or acting out what I was trying to say, which was always a hassle. I also brought a Spanish dictionary to help me, but it was as thin as a pancake. One time, I was trying to talk to my host grandma about the radio they had, but I had no idea how to say “radio” in Spanish. My eyes opened wide when I realized I could use my dictionary to help me, so I jumped out of my chair to run to my room to get it, yet the word was not there. Later, I found out that “radio” in Spanish is just “radio” in a Spanish accent.
I knew I made the right decision to volunteer with Amigos de las Américas as I left my community waving goodbye from the backseat of an old taxi to my host family standing together outside their house trying to hold back tears. Although I had difficulties communicating with my host family and the community, I still had a great time exploring a country I had never been to and meeting new people while making lifelong memories. I now know from this experience that I cannot let my doubts stop me from trying new things I want to do in the future.
I am glad I can actually relate to this quote: “I’d rather look back on life and say ‘I can’t believe I actually did that’ than ‘I wish I’d done that.’”