Each country I visited this semester taught me a few things about myself. There was Argentina that brought a sense of family to me. I truly value my family now more than ever. With Uruguay came the lesson of the flexibility that comes with adapting to friends with different interests than you. Just because you’re friends, it doesn’t mean you have things in common. While sunbathing in Chile, I learned how to be fearless (the proof is on my back, and my fohawk…). But Peru was a special case to my heart. Peru gave me the time to heal some wounds and taught me the most valuable lesson of all: to let go of the past.
The biggest flaw I have is not forgetting, and therefore I can never really forgive people, or myself. In Peru, I was forced to let go. I was a privileged little girl trying to victimize herself for a past I had to take responsibility of. It was an eye-awakening experience, and I miss every single moment of it. Yes, I am no longer in Peru. Due to some traveling plans in 2013, I had to head to California, or else I would not be with my family until 2014. But I want to share what Peru did to me.
I found the ability to let go among the sand dunes of Cañete. There were adults who touched my heart, andchildren who made me genuinely laugh. I wasn’t fake, like I had felt I had been in Argentina, and the US. I was forced to face my demons at night, and during the day I was forced to let go of them. My personal problems were nothing compared to those of the children in NPH. I did my best to connect to each of the kids and staff members while I was there. There was a day I was in bed because I got sick (Christmas Day…) and a day I went into Lima. But other than that, I wanted to always be with the children.
Saying goodbye to them was the hardest thing I did during my time in South America. The babies cried and Esmeralda, one of the Kindergartners, wouldn’t hug me goodbye. I could see the hurt in her eyes (she’s the one smiling in the photo taken during Christmas Eve). Then Alejandra, another Kinder, wouldn’t let me go, and Victor (who I would call Victoria because he would me “tio” instead of “tia) was hugging me tightly. I’m even tearing up as I type this. Those kids mean the world to me, but they reminded me of my little 6-year-old sister and I knew I had to head to California.
Truth is I left the US to run away from a past I couldn’t let go off, but Peru gave me the strength to return to California and finally let go. It was time to move on.