One month post abroad

I left Galápagos one month and one day ago, and Ecuador one month ago. I miss it more than I could have ever imagined. It's hard to go from living on an island, la vida tranquila, to taking 2 classes, an MCAT prep class, and work in a full time research position.

Here's a picture to commemorate. I miss my life down there a lot, but I do have new and exciting things to look forward to. 

Okay.

I couldn't resist

5 days without rice feels so good!!!

Airport writing

**I wrote this in the airport awhile ago, and never posted it due to lack of wifi**

This is it. I'm in the airport in Quito, leaving for Atlanta in an hour.

My last two days here have been incredibly emotional. Saying goodbye to my host family in Galápagos was so difficult. My host parents, Pablo and Julissa, were not back from Guayaquil when I left, so my host grandma, Yolanda, tried about 100 different ways and tactics for me to get off the plane when we landed in Guayaquil so I could run off and say goodbye, but they wouldn't let me. I had the best host family on the island hands down. It breaks my heart to have left without giving them a proper goodbye, as well as meeting my new sister, Abby! We have the same birthday!

My host uncle didn't know I was leaving Galapagos yesterday, and he crushed my dreams when he said he had been planning on taking me scuba diving at night this weekend. Because it rained so hard this past week, the water was brown. That in addition to me flying within 24 hours made it impossible to go. He's a lobster fisherman, and it totally would have been off the books, and so cool to go catch the lobsters! My host sister cried, and told me I need to come back in exactly one year. My family served me a delicious special lunch of lobster. So yummy! I hope to come back with my family one day soon. I would love to sail around the islands with them and show them all the places I have come to know and love. I was an emotional wreck at the airport (as were most people) and felt sad, truly sad, for the first time in a very long time.

Last night was weird. There were just the weirdest vibes going on. Not everyone in our program likes each other, and there was a definite separation when we got to the hotel in Quito. I'm on good terms with everyone, but there are definitely people I prefer to hang out with. We ate dinner, and then had our last bonding moment! My friend Ellen taught us how to do this thing called a carwash, which I will explain in person to anyone who is curious. It was very intimate and very cathartic. I took a 2 hour nap, and then went back downstairs to wish the first wave of people leaving goodbye at 2:45 am. My really good friend Bryce was in that group, and it was really sad to see him and everyone else get on the bus to the airport. The hotel felt like limbo or purgatory. It was a neutral space where no one had any deep connections, and we were all just coming, waiting, reflecting, and leaving. I will probably write more about the whole purgatory parallel later one day. Fascinating!

On a happier note, I got to go visit my host family in Quito today! This was the first time I was properly (kind of) able to speak Spanish to them, and they were really excited! I had no idea my host mom was so sassy! I got to have lunch with them, and my host mom gave me a necklace and something wrapped up for my mom. I can't wait to see what it is! She also has a sister who lives in Ronkonkoma, which is about an hour away from me. She is going to visit her in either August or September, and I am definitely planning on making the trip out to see her.

We're about to board, so I'm going to go say my last goodbyes to my friends here. I still can't believe I am about to leave. I'm sad to go, but I do think I'm ready to go home. I have to take the GRE on Thursday (haven't started studying, lol), go back up to Siena on Sunday for a class and research, and start my MCAT prep. I am excited to not be sweating 24/7, to not eat rice, and to see my family and friends. I know the reverse culture shock will be weird, but I think after all I've been through this school year, I can handle anything that life throws at me.

Back in Quito

I flew out of Galapagos yesterday. Cried so much. Felt so many feels.

There are a lot of lessons I've learned during my stay in there. They range from learning that not being busy every single second of the day is a good thing, to seeing that a smile and laughter is understood in every language. I searched for better questions as opposed to answers, sat in hammocks way too often, and lost control willingly. I lived in a massive and intricate learning playground of hammerhead sharks, finches, and public health.

Huge shoutout to everyone who made my study abroad experience an unforgettable one. My family, my friends, my school, and most importantly the Riofrio and Loiza Galarza families. I wouldn't have had such an amazing time without you.

I am so lucky to have had such good experiences that makes saying goodbye to my families, the islands, wearing chacos every day and this country so hard. So I'm not going to. Until next time, Galápagos.

I'm currently in Quito for the day, and I fly out at 11:30 pm. See you soon, states.

I'll definitely do a post-abroad blog post in the near future. But for now, I am going to make the most of my final day in Quito!

So many feelings, so little time

I feel like for my entire life I have been the little perfect girl. You know, the one who does all of her assignments, exercises regularly to keep trim, attends church, and always follows the rules.

I would never dare think of spiking my juice at lunch with caña on my 21st birthday, traveling by myself to an island where I don’t speak the language, or eating a pastry from the bakery every day. Yes, that’s right, every day. I did all of these things. I have always craved adventure, but I never really let myself go. Sure, I’d flip off a diving board 10 feet in the air, but I never reallypushed the boundaries of my abilities. Sure, I’d study for an exam, but once 12 pm hit, I would stop. "If I don’t know it by now, I never will”, is what I would say to myself. Sure, I’d go to church, sing, read, and go through the motions, but I don’t know if I have ever really allowed myself to try to connect with God on a deep level.

I’m kind of sick of being this little perfect blob that allows others to tell her what to do and when to do it. I’ve made a promise to myself for this upcoming year. I am not going to let what others think of me define how I act around them. If I love the way someone laughs, I am going to tell her. If I want to take a class that is unrelated to my major, I’m going to take it. If I am in an interview for grad/med school and someone tells me to explain why I like to help people, I am going to say that it makes me happy. I’m not going to spend hours crafting the perfect little bullshit answer that they want to or are expecting to hear. Making other people happy makes me happy and feel fulfilled, and that should be enough.

Instead of always assuming that my professors always have the right answer, I am going to look things up for myself. Yes, Dr. So-and-So, those are some great ways to fix what is going on with the public health system in this country, but how about looking at it from this perspective? I have let teachers my entire life tell me what to do, and how to do it. I’m ready to think for myself. To form my own opinions. To say what I think it best, instead of spitting back a paragraph from a textbook. I’m not saying that teachers and textbooks aren’t good resources. They are. I have learned so much from them for a good part of my life. But I think it’s time that I take the reins.

I need to learn for myself. There's a story I once heard about an American visiting an African village. She saw a young child reaching for the fire and slapped his hand away. An elder in the village scolded her, and said, “if you do that you will need to watch him carefully for your whole life”. Of course, I would prevent children from touching fire. However, there is a need for children to be able to learn. Am I actually able to learn, or have I been memorizing shit my teachers have been spewing at me for my entire life? By punishing him for letting him explore, she may have undermined his motivation to learn for his entire life.

If there’s one thing I’ll take away from my time spent here, it’s motivation and desire to make the world a happier place. I desire to do good in my tiny place in the world now so much more than I ever have before. I am a little speck. A little blob. I owe it to myself to do something remarkable with my life.

Reverse cultural adaptation

I've heard that reverse cultural adaptation can be harder than cultural adaptation. I am starting to think that myself. It hit me while I was snorkeling today that if I need a break from studying, I can't walk across the street to the beach and hang out with tons of marine life. 

I'm going back to a world where I have to shower every day, have to cram tons of cellular pathways into my brain on the reg, and am responsible for so more much more than just myself.

I think the post-abroad depression is going to be real.

Am I ready to go home?

Yes and no. If I could beam myself home for a week, I think I would be able to stay for another few months. There are responsibilities I need to attend to (GRE, MCAT, research, yay!) and I am itching to see my family and friends. Sometimes, I feel a little contained on the island, and I think a trip to the mainland would fix that.

However, there is so much I am going to miss. I shed my very first tear since coming here this weekend (it was only one, don't worry) about the fact that I don't think I am going to be able to see my host parents before I leave. They are both in Guayaquil with the baby. I didn't get to really say a proper goodbye to Pablo because he knocked on my door at 7 am on my birthday to tell me that he was going to the airport because Julissa was having a C-Section. He wished me a happy happy happy birthday (birthdays are huge here), and gave me a hug, but I wish I had really savored the moment. My host sister came home today because she starts up school again on wednesday, and I was really happy to see her. She ran right into my arms. I missed her a lot. It became an all-adult household after she left, and I am all about being a big kid and running around.

Coming here and taking classes on the environment, climate change, and volunteerism has changed my perspective a lot. I am leaving a huge carbon footprint on the Galapagos Islands. I generated so much waste, used so much energy, and took 4 flights to get where I am right now. I have had many discussions with multiple people about whether we would do it again, considering the footprint we left. While one of my friends here says vehemently no, I think I would come again. I think the islands have left a greater mark on me than I have on them. I have always left areas where I have been cleaner than when I found them and I have built relationships that I will never forget. These are insignificant compared to what the islands have taught me. Living life in Galapagos has taught me that positivity is a choice, it's okay to lose control sometimes, and that we live in a world full of beauty, charm, and adventure. It was here that I searched for better questions instead of answers. It was living here that motivated me to send in a letter to the Manhasset Press concerning Global Climate Change, to be passionate, and to go forth with my talents and make the world a better place.

I sound incredibly cliché, I know. Little white girl studies abroad and says it changes her life.

There's a popular article circulating the internet right now about a woman who quit her 95,000/yr salary job and moved to the Caribbean to start a new life. She was a writer and Yale grad living in NYC, and she was sick of living to work instead of working to live. So she bought a one way plane ticket, got a job scooping ice-cream, and says she couldn't be happier. After she gets home from work (I believe she's a bartender now), she doesn't think about it. Instead, she hangs out with her friends, goes diving, and "lives life to the fullest". While I am happy that she is happy, I don't know if I could live like that. It's great that she is relaxed, but I, ever the planner, have some questions for her. What is going to happen if you get sick and don't have savings for health care? Do you ever want a family? What is going to happen when you need to retire? Do you ever want to settle down and lead one life instead of many tiny micro lives? Do you ever feel a sense of permanence?

Being busy is a part of me. I absolutely love Galapagos, but I could never live here permanently. I am part of the generation that must be constantly entertained by something. I don't think I have said the words "I'm bored" since I was in middle school. I always have something to do. Homework, studying, exercise, dive practice, trapeze lessons, violin, catch up on Bones, read interesting articles, apply to grad schools, etc. The list goes on. I don't know if ever before I've decided to hang up a hammock on the beach and just lie in it for a few hours. Living here has made me more patient and less neurotic. Before, I would freak about not being 10 minutes early to something. Island time usually runs 30 minutes late, so I've decided that being on time is a nice compromise. I definitely know that I belong in a bustling city, but I now have another happy place to go to in my mind for some peace when things get crazy. La vida tranquila.

Here is a list of some of the things that I will miss (in no particular order)

Swimming in the clear blue water 

Having my school be located across from the beach

Snorkeling with sea turtles, fish, and sea lions every day

My host family 

Pepe honking at me whenever he drives past me in his bus

My little 3-year-old boyfriend, Amir

Going entire days without speaking english

Iguana Rock

Walking by Kicker Rock Bar and hearing the owners call out to me, "Hola Katalina"

Going to the panaderia and buying pastries every day

Philosophical conversations with my friend, Sam

Being constantly amazed by how beautiful the world is

Reading in hammock, and feeling like I have no responsibilities

Scuba diving (with all of its ups and downs)

Dancing my heart out at the discotec

Watching myself grow personally and socially

Waking up and putting a bathing suit on instead of a bra and undies

Riding on boats

Going to the bar with my professors

Being a hot sweaty mess every single second of the day and not caring

Eating bananas 24/7

Sitting on the balcony of my university doing homework and watching the waves

Drinking insane amounts of water

Empanadas from empanada lady (life changing)

Ahí

Almuerzo

Researching the public health system

Listening to spanish music

the burger place 

Meandering down the boardwalk

Watching sea lions get on benches

patacones

My host dad, Pablo, and all of his adventures

Julissa telling me that I'm only allowed to go out at night for 5 minutes and then I have to come home and go to bed

Lentils and fresh fish

Getting made fun of for not being able to roll my "r"s

...and so many more

Leaving here knowing that I may never come back is going to be so hard.

I wish there was a word for the impending sadness I am going to feel in 96 hours. I feel like I need to do so much to make the most out of my time here! There was a huge sea swell yesterday, and the waves are HUGE. The police are guarding the beaches to make sure no one goes in the water because it is so dangerous and the boardwalk is all ripped up. I hope I feel closure when I leave.

May 3rd thoughts

Some stimulating conversation on society, gender norms, and sexuality last night left me pondering some questions before I went to bed.

Why do I feel uncomfortable accepting compliments?

Why has society taught me that I should brush off compliments?

Why do I think it's a bad thing when people tell me what they have achieved?

Do I perceive that as bragging?

Why is it easier to receive a compliment on something I have, a shirt, for example, rather than what I am?

Why didn't I just write an example for something that I am?

What am I?

Why do I still feel uncomfortable writing something that I think I am?

Why, in, Spanish do you "have" things instead of being them? (years, feelings, etc.)

Because I am a native english speaker, have I grown up defining myself by qualities or characteristics that I am, instead of ones that I have?

So if you have a quality instead of being a quality, are qualities lose-able or gain-able?

What is a quality?

What is quality?

**currently having a flashback to reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance**

I think I feel another existential crisis coming on.

If I had to describe my feelings about leaving in 5 days with a picture...

This would be it

Mom, don't read this one

I can’t think of anything worse than not being able to breathe. We do it without thinking in our day-to-day lives. It’s taken for granted. But 65 feet underwater, outfitted with full scuba diving equipment, it’s all you can think about. You hear yourself breathe in, and watch the bubbles go out. The shitty scubapro regulators we rent for each dive make these tinny noises, and you have to suck in instead of letting your breathing flow naturally.

My second dive in North Seymour, Santa Cruz, I felt trapped. Contained. I had swam just a little too fast, exerted myself just a little too hard trying to see some eagle rays. All I could think about was getting out of there. Going up. Having fresh, clean air whoosh through my nasal passages and get oxygen to my brain. I started to feel really dizzy, and I signaled to the divemaster that something was wrong. That I felt nervous. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened 40 minutes earlier on our first dive.

***

We were 25 minutes into the first dive of the day. It had been a great dive up to that point. We had seen rays, sharks, eels, and tons of fish. There was a manta ray about 10 feet in front of us, and we started to swim towards it. My friend, Karli, and the divemaster were about 3 feet in front of me when I heard a giant WHOOSH. I don’t know if I can describe what a free flowing regulator sounds like. It’s loud and angry, especially when it’s yours. Air was flowing out of my octopus, my auxiliary regulator at an astonishing pace. I calmly reached out and turned it upside down, which should have stopped it. It didn’t. I made as much noise as I could, but the others did not hear me. I checked my air, and saw that it was rapidly depleting. It was almost down to zero. I was panicking. My training kicked in. DO NOT PANIC. STAY CALM. Is what my brain told me. I knew I had two options. To try to swim over to them and grab one of their auxiliary regulators, or to go up.

I chose to go up. I later realized that I would have had to ditch my weight belt and tank under the water if I had run out of air on the way over to them. I’m getting anxious writing this right now. I swam up as fast as I could, putting my remaining air in my BC on the way up so I would float when I got to the top. I didn’t have the time or air to safety stop, and I wondered if I was putting myself in danger of getting decompression sickness once I broke to the surface and inhaled. I could see one boat in sight, very far away. I looked down, and I saw that Karli and the divemaster sitting together looking around for me. “Look up, look up”, is what I willed them to do. 

I stuck my face in and made as much noise as I could, but they didn’t hear me and the current was taking me out of their sight. The water was choppy, and I hoped that someone would see me before I got bashed against the rocks. The current was on my side. I swam with the current for what I know now was about 15 minutes. My gopro had been filming the entire time. I wished for a whistle, wished for a flare, and wished that I had gills for about 10 minutes until I saw our boat. I began to shout “ayudame!”, or “help me” while waving my arms to show that I was in distress. A little boat found me, helped me in, and brought me over to the dive boat where I nearly broke down in tears.

All I could think about is the fact that I could have died. I kept it together, and became angry at Rene, the chauvinistic man who we had booked the dive through. He wasn’t on the boat with us. Thank god. That morning and the day before he would not stop telling me what a great body I had, how I have a big butt and a big chest, and how he wanted to take me dancing. I asked him to stop multiple times, but he would not. All I could think about is how I wanted to murder Rene, for giving me a non-functioning regulator and for continually hitting on me.

The divemaster and Karli made it back to the boat shortly after, and I told him what had happened.  He told me I had made the right decision, and that if I had not put air in my BC, I would have had a hard time staying up on the surface. I would have had to ditch my weight belt. They looked at my regulator, told me it was broken, and said we were going to see if we could borrow another regulator from a nearby boat. Rene did not give us an extra one like he was supposed to. The divemaster saw how nervous I was, gave me his regulator, and he took the borrowed one. “Do I go on the second dive?” was all I could think about. I knew I had to. If there is one thing I’ve learned from springboard diving, it is that you have to get back on the horse right away. So I went down once more.

***

We stopped. He made me kneel on the sand, close my eyes, and breathe. In. Out. In. Out. After 30 seconds, I felt much better. His regulator was much nicer than mine. I didn’t have to pull hard to breathe, and it did not make noise each time I took a breath. The divemaster had done the right thing, to encourage me to go on the second dive. I finished the dive. We saw at least 30 sharks, if not more, including a hammerhead. I was happy that I had gone. I have had a constant battle with mental toughness since I began springboard diving 6 years ago, and I won this round.

If anyone reading this decides to go scuba diving in Santa Cruz, Galapagos, Ecuador, please do not use the agency Galápagos People, and most definitely avoid any dive shop owner named René.

10 days until departure

"Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim"

I have heard this quote hundreds of times. I hardcore relate to it. If you were to ask me the question, "who are you?", I don't know how I would respond. I am a lover of too many things. I am an optimist, a giver, a trapeze artist, an idealist, a smiler, a broadway-show-belter-on-long-car-rides-er, a learner, and an adventurer. I am Kathleen, I am Kate, y me llamo Catalina. I am a New Yorker, I am always busy, and I am generally a functional hot mess. I am always running somewhere, doing something, all while attempting to juggle relationships with my family and friends. The name of the game is balance. I have, in vain, attempted to balance cell biology, a romantic relationship, organic chemistry, friendships with 100+ people from all over the world, being a D1 athlete, upper-level sociology courses, memberships in the biology club, the chemistry club, and the community service club, while planning a service trip to South Africa, being a good roommate, being a tour guide for my school, tutoring, and somehow attempting to get somewhere from 5-8 hours of sleep a night. 

It didn't work out so well for me.

I was burnt out, stressed out, tired 24/7, sick of smelling like chlorine, not retaining the information I needed to do well in my classes, and generally pretty miserable. I was frustrated that I only had one body, that I needed to sleep, and that I could not be everywhere doing everything. This past year in particular, I learned that you have to pick and choose what is important to you. 

And here, in the epic saga of KEA, is where I start relating to the quote. I picked school. I love to learn. I love to reason. I love to think. To be honest, I would rather spend most saturday nights discussing ethical issues and social experiments than drinking a beer tower (or five) unlike the majority of 21-year-olds. Don't get me wrong. I can and will dance on tables with the best of them. However, I love school. If I could be a professional college student, I would. However sometimes usually, I feel like I can't explore my interests because I am too focused on earning admission to a graduate program, getting an internship, etc. "If you want to go to medical school, you need to take these classes, get these grades, and check these extra-curricular activities off your list". I cannot explain how many times I have heard that since my junior year of high school. I had spent hours and hours crafting the perfect "me" that medical schools want. Good grades! Hard classes! Foreign service work! Foreign medical service work! Hours of community service! Social sciences! Hard sciences! I have spent so long trying to keep my academic achievements on par with everyone else, that I have forgotten how much I love to learn. I wish I had another four years to take classes in Global Gender Studies, Physics, Spanish, Environmental Science, Philosophy, Psychology, and Rhetoric Literature. I wish I could have 20 more majors. I wish I could debate with people about the use of the oxford comma. One of my absolute favorite classes was Organic Chemistry. I did not get the best grade in the class. I wasn't even close. I wish I could take it again, without being graded. I feel like I would enjoy the journey of learning syntheses and mechanisms much more. I wish I could learn in an environment where I was not judged for everything I do by 5 letters of the alphabet.

As I start the application process to medical schools and graduate schools, I realize that to the application committees, I am not Kathleen Ackert: lover of everyone and everything. I am white. I am female. I am financially able to attend whatever school I want to. I am a biology major. I am 3.31. I am whatever I score on the MCAT. I am the girl that quit her athletics career because it was too much to handle as a science major. I am the girl who was incredibly disappointed in herself because she got a B- in general chemistry her first semester. I am the girl who studied abroad on the Galápagos Islands. I am the one who will probably talk too much and too passionately in her interviews, and they'll wonder if I am able to be committed to one thing. 

Sometimes I wonder if I am just perfectly mediocre at lots of things, and if my expected degree in biology will actually give me real-world skills that I need to succeed as a doctor/biologist/public-health-policy-maker/person. Am I actually a charlatan that just paid way too much for a piece of paper that says that I have a B.S in Biology? Bachelor of science, or bullshit? 

My goal for my senior year is to add the word "no" to my vocabulary. I am sure this was one of the first words I learned, and one of my favorites for a long time as a toddler. I'm not too sure where or when I lost it. All I know (see, I can use homonyms!) is that for the last 6 to 7 years of my life, I have  been saying "yes" to everything and anything people ask of me. Of course I can help you with the biomechanics homework. Yes, I can be the TA for two Organic Chemistry labs. Sure, I'd love to give you a ride to the airport at 4 am. I have been saying "yes" and all of its synonyms to things that I might have not wanted to do for years and years and years because I don't want to disappoint people. I want people to think I'm dependable. But here's the thing. If you're a dependable person, people depend on you to do stuff. I'm also responsible. When you're a responsible person, people give you tons and tons of responsibilities. The major theme I've realized is that my life has started to revolve around the people I'm helping, instead of my own interests. Is this a bad thing? At first, people would say yes. You have to think of yourself first! You need to be healthy- physically and mentally- in order to help others. I wonder then, why I have been taught for so much of my life to put others before myself. As a member of the Catholic Church and a member of the Ackert family, I have learned to be generous, forgiving, honest, trustworthy, friendly, helpful, and considerate. So what am I supposed to do?

The golden rule, according to my wonderful kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Rosza, is to treat the others the way you want to be treated. After taking a few philosophy classes and attending a Franciscan school, I have some questions that pertain to this. St. Francis says in his peace prayer, "for it is in giving that we receive". So if I am giving purely for the purpose of receiving something in return, am I really giving? If I give because I want to give, but also because I know I will receive something, am I still giving? And what am I receiving? Happiness? Love? Another few lines for my resume? Something to talk about in medical school interviews? I draw parallels back to the golden rule. Treat others the way you want to be treated. So if I put someone else's needs before my own, am I basically saying that I want others to put my needs before mine?

Basically, today, I'm a little conflicted about things. Hopefully one day I will figure this all out. But for now, I am going to keep giving, keep smiling, and keep loving. Because even if I am technically being selfish for gaining happiness from giving, I love being happy.

21st birthday!

I celebrated my 21st birthday yesterday! Although the drinking age is 18 here, my family knew that 21 is a big birthday in the states, and planned accordingly! As promised, Pepe came to dinner with the bottle of whiskey. I can now say that I do not like whiskey. We had chicken, rice, and potatoes for dinner, and afterwards, my family brought out a cake! We have three french volunteers staying with us right now, so I got "Happy Birthday" sung to me in 3 different languages!

After dinner, I went to Iguana Rock with my friends. It is my favorite bar/discotec here! I gave them a flash drive with a "gringa mix" on it, and they played it for me all night. It was a great night with my friends.

Scuba pictures

Words, palabras, etc.

I am 13 days away from being back in the United States, and 4 hours away from being 21. I am having trouble describing how I feel, so I turned to John Koenig's, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

Occhiloism (n): the awareness of the smallness of your perspective, by which you couldn’t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions at all, about the world or the past or the complexities of culture, because although your life is an epic and unrepeatable anecdote, it still only has a sample size of one, and may end up being the control for a much wilder experiment happening in the next room.


Liberosis (n): the desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.


Onism (n): the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die—and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.


Rückkehrunruhe (n): the feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness—to the extent you have to keep reminding yourself that it happened at all, even though it felt so vivid just days ago—which makes you wish you could smoothly cross-dissolve back into everyday life, or just hold the shutter open indefinitely and let one scene become superimposed on the next, so all your days would run together and you’d never have to call cut.


Vemödalen (n): the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist—the same sunset, the same waterfall, the same curve of a hip, the same closeup of an eye—which can turn a unique subject into something hollow and pulpy and cheap, like a mass-produced piece of furniture you happen to have assembled yourself.

Fotos y español

Hola mi amigos! Yo quiero practicar mi español, entonces, estoy escribiendo eso articulo en español. Yo no tengo mucho practica escribiendo, solo hablando. Estoy tomiendo un classe de español proximo semestre, y yo pienso es interesante regresar y mira a mi articulo y vi mi escribiendo mal. Yo no tengo mucho vocabulario, y yo no se como conjugar en el futuro. Solo in presente y pasado. Yo tube un clase de español aquí, pero yo no aprendi mucho. Estaba muy estúpido.

Yo tengo un fin de semana bueno en Floreana y Santa Cruz. Yo fui con mi amiga, pero ella no habla español. Nada. Ella no sabe "yo tengo", o "Cuanto cuesta". Muy difficile ire lugares, porque mi español is no bien también. Yo se un poco ire otra lugares solo. Ella esta yendo a Colombia y Peru solo, y estoy muy miedo.

Estoy muy emocionada aprender mas español! Eso articulo estaba muy dificile escribir.

Mi "novio" aqui, Amir

Las Grietas

Arriba en Floreana!

Cabeza de Floreana

Playa Negra! El arena es negra porque 

Antes mi primero buceo (fiasco)

Scuba selfie con tiberon

Mi secundo buceo

Con Darwin!

A la finca de El Mas Quierdo, una lugar de almuerzo

Nosotros no gustamos papaya

Vamos a Floreana!

"When you go abroad, you'll get to travel a lot. I saw x countries in one semester!" I have heard people say this to me countless amounts of times. X would regularly equal 5, 10, or 15 countries. My friends who are abroad in Europe have been jet-setting all over; if you count Ryan Air as jet-setting. Studying abroad in South America is a little different. A bunch of my friends are backpacking through Peru, Colombia, and Argentina afterwards, but because I have summer research, I'll be going home directly after my program ends. My mom told me that I would want to travel afterwards! (Note to self: moms always know best). I guess that's just an excuse to come back to South America one day! 

I traveled a little bit in Quito. Part of my tropical ecology class included field trips to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station, Río Topo, and the Paramo. We also stayed the weekend in Baños after we went to Río Topo. That was my favorite weekend in Ecuador. Baños is the adventure capital of the world, and has really awesome nightlife! I would have traveled more, but I was a little hesitant because my spanish skills weren't great in Quito. We also went island hopping for spring break. Again, these trips were planned by the school. Santa Cruz, Bartolomé, and Isabela were absolutely gorgeous. Just a taste of seeing some of the other islands led me to want more. 

I knew there were some islands that were completely out of the question. For example, the island of Fernandina is only open to researchers, and Darwin and Wolf are only accessible by cruise ship. My best option looked like it was Floreana. Floreana is only accessible via Santa Cruz.  I tried vehemently to organize a trip straight there. If you have enough people, you can charter a boat there. However, I didn't have enough people interested, so instead my friend Karli and I are going to do a weekend mini island hopping trip! 

I am writing this on the two hour boat ride to Santa Cruz. I don't have class today, so I was able to catch the 7 am ferry over. Karli will take the 2 pm ferry over and meet me this afternoon. After getting absolutely everything planned for us, it was a bit of a different experience to attempt to plan a trip by ourselves. Because my Spanish is better than Karli's, I am going to find a hostel for us to stay at this morning. Then, I am going to go to Las Grietas. The word grieta means crack, and that is exactly what Las Grietas are. They are cracks in the lava that have filled up with ocean water. I am so excited to snorkel in them! There are a few of them, and in one of them there is an underwater tunnel that you can swim through with one large breath, and that the other side opens up to gorgeousness. Since drowning is one of my worst fears, I might not be doing that. Actually, I probably will. Sorry mom. 

On Saturday we are going to go to Floreana for the day. We will go to a black sand beach and get a tour of the highlands. I really wanted to go to the post office there, but it's only accessible by cruise ship. It's so interesting! It's not a traditional post office at all. It's literally a barrel, and when you go there, you're supposed to look through all the letters and if you find one that's close to where you live, you're supposed to take it and hand deliver it. Our friends in the marine track will also be coming to Santa Cruz that night, so we are going to meet up with them and go to Bongo, which is a cool bar/disco on the malecon. It's my birthday weekend, so I'm excited to dance! 

On Sunday, Karli and I are going to see if we can scuba dive in Santa Cruz. I don't know if we will be able to dive and then make the afternoon boat back, but we will see! I am excited to see how my trip planning skills work out! 

I am also extremely thankful that I don't get seasick. 

Kate: The Translator

My family recently got three new volunteers from France. I thought it would be fairly easy to talk to them because Spanish and French are both romance languages, and I took four years of French in high school, plus two years of Latin in middle school. I guess as I learned more and more Spanish, my French left my brain. I could barely get a word out when I tried to speak with them in french! Brother David and Miss. Emmanuel would be so disappointed in me. I was so good at French in high school! My spanish speaking skills have way surpassed my french speaking skills. As I try to talk with them more and more, I am remembering stuff, but I feel so clueless! They do also speak a little english, which is nice.

I knew it was going to be difficult for me to speak with them, however, I did not realize how difficult it was going to be for my host family to speak to them! So basically, I am forced to translate. I’ll listen in either french or english, and then do my best to translate to spanish. Muy dificil! (or tres difficile, depending on whom you’re talking to).

Even though I’m still bad at Spanish, I actually realized that I am not as terrible as I thought I was. I have learned an incredible amount of Spanish since January. The other students in my program are actually amazed that I’ve almost caught up to the intermediate class! I think that this had to do with my confidence in speaking. From the moment I stepped off the plane in Quito, if I needed something or wanted to share something, I said it. No matter how bad I sounded, or even if I was completely wrong, I was always able to somehow convey what I wanted to say. Charades helped a lot in the beginning, and now I can usually just speak. I do have to say things in a roundabout way sometimes though, just because my vocabulary is pretty limited. If there was one piece of advice I would give a student coming here, it would be to just really put yourself out there when speaking in spanish. Your family will correct you when you’re wrong, and you’ll learn a lot! When I talk to the locals, a lot of them say that they can only speak English if they've had a drink or two! Speaking in a new language makes you so vulnerable, but I think you really just have to go for it. Even if you make mistakes, they’ll be really funny. (See my Kate vs. Spanish post). I have decided to sign up for a spanish class in the fall, so I can keep learning. Being abroad in a spanish speaking country has helped me decide that I definitely would like to be fluent in spanish.

I have the best host dad ever

I mentioned one day to my host dad that I would like to go to El Junco, a volcano with a freshwater lake in it, at night to see the stars. He suggested something even better. He told me that we could go to El Junco at 4 in the morning to see the stars and then to see the sunrise.

So at 4 am, Pablo, my friends Sam and Bryce, and I got up and drove to the highlands. We got there around 4:30 in the morning. We walked up to the top, where it was pitch black. Even though it was so dark, you could still kind of see the lake.

It was pitch black when I took this picture of Sam

Here comes the sun!

My host dad, Pablo

We watched the sun rise while we walked around the perimeter of the lake. It was incredibly surreal. It is, to date, one of the best experiences I have had here. Afterwards, we went to Puerto Chino and spent the early morning getting tossed around by the waves. We got back around 9 for breakfast. All in all, it was a great morning!

Post sun-rise

Then, Pablo asked me if I wanted to go scuba diving at night...

Transcendentalism: 2015 Edition

Wilderness therapy. The first time I met my friend Sam, we were on the plane to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station. We were discussing simple introductory things. Colleges, ages, and majors. He told me that he was a clinical psychology major, and I asked him why he opted for a program that is heavily populated with biology and environmental science majors, and has a strong focus on the natural sciences. (For the record, he’s not alone. There are some other unrelated majors here too…film, policy, and communications just to name a few.) He told me that he was interested in Wilderness Therapy. Three months later, I’ve realized that this is the perfect career for him. And that I am intrigued by the psychology behind it all.

After getting a quick explanation from him, I became more interested in what wilderness therapy is. I finally looked it up this morning, and I’m fascinated by it. My Mom would call it “outward bound”, where participants are guided towards personal growth, self-respect, and leadership skills. I would have loved outward bound as a teenager, and would still probably learn from it today. However, I am interested in wilderness therapy for different reasons. Yes, there’s the whole “going out into the wilderness to find myself” aspect that basically covers the whole transcendentalist movement. Emerson, Thoreau, and all that jazz. Wilderness therapy does not focus on behavioral modification. It avoids psychological games and manipulation to cognitively restructure ways of thinking, as found in many psychotherapy programs. Instead, it places people in an environment where they are challenged by nature. Which allows the leaders/counselors to observe how they respond to such challenges, complemented by a reflection journal for self-evaluation.

What I find interesting is how this lack of technology would play out in today’s “do it for the instagram” society. What happens when teenagers and young adults are disconnected from the internet? Something that I find prevalent among young adults is "social media anxiety”. When I post a picture on facebook or instagram, I often find myself thinking, “man, I hope this gets a lot of likes”. It is not uncommon for me to get about 65 likes on a picture, and if I get something lower (in the 40 range); I wonder if I even should have posted this in the first place. If I get 100+ likes, I know I’ve done something right. A picture of me standing on Mitad del Mundo, or the Equator, with a quote from Dr. Seuss earned me 128. Doing a flip at Playa el Garrapatera got me 106. A shot of me and my wonderful father at a wedding yielded 107. However, a shot of a letter I wrote to the Tooth Fairy at age 5 only netted 36. And for the record, it was really cute. Why do I even care about this stuff?

Of course, with age, comes a bit of wisdom. When my then 16-year-old brother visited me at college last year, he thought an appropriate way to start conversations with my friends was, “What’s your max number of likes on Instagram?” I winced every time I heard it. My brother seemed to be collecting intangible "like" counts, and unlike coins, stamps, or Beanie Babies, those likes contain nothing of value or fun to pass onto generations to come.  

Being in Galápagos has pros and cons. Pros include beautiful beaches, amazing snorkeling, and my life looking like it is straight out of Pinterest. Cons include eating rice and beans for every meal, mosquitos and biting horse flies, and island fever. I can’t decide if limited access to the world wide web is a pro or a con. You could say that I am “living life to the fullest” because I am not worrying about posting snapchats or pictures, and how many likes I am getting. Or you could also look at the document I have on my computer, which has the names and passwords to 5 different places with wifi on the island. I am not alone in this. A friend from high school is studying abroad in Europe right now. Her album title on facebook is “Man’s Search for Wifi”, a play on Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning”, which we read in our 11th grade Morality class. Along with air-conditioning and pens, wifi is a hot commodity all over the world. I mean, if you didn't 'gram it, did it really happen?

Various people from my life have messaged me to say how incredible my pictures are, how jealous they are of me, and how hard it's going to be to come home. This calls to mind a tweet I saw about 6 months ago. “Don’t compare your behind-the-scenes life to other people’s highlight reels”. I know people who compare all aspects of their lives to people they have never met. These supermodels, television stars, and yoga gurus seem to have accomplished perfection- both physically and mentally- to the laypeople. Yes, my life does look like paradise in the picture of me in the Natarajasana, or Lord of the Dance pose that was taken on the apex of some rocks overlooking Puerto Chino, a beautiful white sand beach on San Cristóbal Island. But what isn’t portrayed in that picture is that minutes before, I was sprinting around the beach like a crazy person in order to avoid the biting horse flies that follow you when you’re wet. I’ve heard before that photographs can act as a “counter-memory” of sorts. In 10 years, we will forget what we’ve seen, but remember the picture and evoke some sort of feeling from that picture. Would my entire experience here have been drastically different if I didn’t have access to the internet or a camera?

In 2008, a response from my mother regarding “I need a Virtual Break. No, Really”, by Mark Bittman was published in the NY Times. She accurately said, "Our society's obsession with staying connected and current is not a recent one. In ''Walden,'' Henry David Thoreau asked a simple question, ''If the bell rings, why should we run?’'

Could he have known that we are capable of a nearly Pavlovian response every time we hear the phrase ''You've got mail’’?”

I find it amusing that 7 years later, I have the same thoughts floating through my head. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose. However, as I don’t know a single person who uses AOL anymore, I am going to modify her last sentence. Could he have known we are capable of nearly a Pavlovian response every time we see a new SnapChat story?

Sorry for the tangent. To return to my initial interest in Wilderness Therapy, I think that programs like this are great. They show people that you can have a good time without being validated by “likes" from "friends" on the internet. Teenagers and adults alike aren’t able to escape to their virtual realities where they have so carefully crafted their lives in a series of pictures. They are eventually forced to face their real problems, and learn how to cope- without the whole “lay down on a couch while Freud psychoanalyzes me in therapy” stigma. They’re in a setting where it just happens naturally. Being in the wilderness is a place conducive to exercise and health, and physical well-being definitely fosters mental well-being. Having control of yourself physically shows that you can take control of yourself mentally. Not everyone likes to open up, and if placing focus on naturally occurring challenges, such as finding food or shelter exposes what you're really struggling with, nature is the place to do it.

I think I’ve had my own sort of wilderness therapy here. I definitely have grown personally, and have fostered a greater sense of respect for both the world and myself. My last class on global climate change really opened my eyes to a lot of things that I had just ignored in the past because they didn’t affect me personally. It can be really difficult to live here. Almost everything has to be imported, and you better like rice and beans. It’s always hot and humid, and there aren’t as many opportunities for a quality education as there are on the mainland. Health care is not great, and many people live their entire lives in poverty, while I'm in la-la land 10 miles south of them wasting away the afternoon reading a novel on the beach complaining about how I don't want to study for a test later. My eyes have now been opened. Maybe in the past I would have just ignored it, but now I want to see a systemic change take place. Call me a high-minded idealist, but I think I just might be able to make that happen.

I’d like to tell my old self and all teenagers two things. One, is that you don't have to always listen to what society deems as "acceptable", and two is that life is more than the posed pictures that garner you a bunch of likes on social media. It’s about the moments where you’re present. You’ll find out what makes you happy and what doesn’t. It’s about the relationships you form. You’ll find whom you genuinely enjoy spending time with, and that you don’t have to be friends with everyone. But most of all, it’s about investing in experiences, not stuff.

My host dad took this picture of me when we went to El Junco (a volcano with a freshwater crater lake) at 4:30 in the morning to see the sunrise. As much as I would like to say I practiced yoga on top of El Junco, I did the Natarajasana pose for the picture. I'm such a hypocrite.

Puerto Chino, night snorkeling, and the best host grandpa ever

Hola chicos!!

Yesterday was absolutely amazing. We did not have class, so my school organized a trip to Puerto Chino! Puerto Chino is an amazing beach. It has fine white sand, crystal clear water, and a beautiful little area to climb on some rocks. We spent the day swimming and exploring, and had a lunch of chicken and rice (typical) afterwards. Here are some pictures from that!

Me and Indira, one of the administrators at school. We love yoga!

The apex of the hike!

The untouched parts of Galápagos are gorgeous. Hopefully we can make more of an effort to conserve the islands!

Then, my host dad told me he would take me night snorkeling in Darwin's Bay. I was SUPER excited for it, and it was incredible. We saw one of the administrators, Indira, from GAIAS on the way there and she came with us! We saw 9 turtles, caught a lobster, and pet a pufferfish! I wish my gopro was better at taking pictures in the dark! I was so scared of the black sea urchins. I don't know if I can do the experience justice in words, and my pictures aren't great. The black sea urchins come out at night. They are huge, and if one stings you, you will get a fever and be in a lot of pain! They were sparkling when we shone our flashlights on them, and I can only begin to explain how dangerously black and appealing they looked.

Langosta, the lobster we caught! Pablo literally just swam down and picked it up! I have a video, but it will take approximately 30 years to upload.

Tortuga

We pet a pufferfish! This was one of the weirder experiences I've had.

Muchas tortugas!

My birthday is in 11 days! Pepe, my host grandpa, asked me if I liked whiskey the first week I was here. Being underage in the US, I told him I had never had whiskey before. He then told me he was going to get me a bottle for my birthday. I thought he was kidding, but today he told me to come into his room, and then he pulled this out of his underwear drawer! Every Saturday and Sunday morning, he asks me if I'm "chuchaqui". That's Ecuadorian slang for "hungover". I don't really drink that much, so I always tell him no. He always tells me that I have to be chuchaqui on April 29th...the day after my birthday! We'll see, Pepe :)