The following blog post was written by peer advisors Ellen, a sophomore in GWSB studying international business. You can learn more about Ellen here.
After taking 12 years of Spanish language classes, conversing with my teachers and peers during class just wasn’t enough anymore. I was reading, writing, speaking, and even dreaming in Spanish by the end of my junior year of high school. I read Spanish literature, listened to Latin music, and could converse with native speakers with ease. In one year I was going to begin my education at GW majoring in Business Administration and minoring in Chinese, leaving no room for further pursuit of the Spanish language—but I wasn’t ready to give it up yet, I couldn’t give it up yet. Something was missing.
I knew I had to go abroad. This was the only way I could gain closure on my Spanish experience and head into college with no regrets. I wanted to go to Spain so badly that it hurt, but I had no idea where to start and how I was going to finance the trip. I talked to a classmate who studied in Seville as part of a summer program, and thankfully, she was kind enough to coach me through the application process. I wrote my application essays in Spanish, she edited them, and I earned a partial scholarship. I saved money from my part-time job to finance tuition for the program, and my family picked up the airfare as my high school graduation present. With the support of my friend, teacher, and family, I was able to make my dream a reality—I was finally going to Spain.
Early June was high school graduation, and two weeks later I was on my way to Sevilla, a city in the province of Andalucía in Southern Spain. The journey was my first time flying alone and internationally—and after two layovers (one of which was a 10-minute sprint through the Portuguese airport due to my flight being delayed) and three planes later, I finally arrived in Seville. My time there was unforgettable. I met amazing people, my Spanish improved tenfold, and I experienced a completely different way of life. I couldn’t stop smiling walking along the cobblestone streets, the sweet smell of fresh bread in the air, the sound of accordions in the background, and the sun shining on my skin. I was amazed by the history, architecture, and breathtaking views of Reales Alcázares, the royal palace of ancient Muslim kings, La Giralda, the third largest cathedral in the world, and the legendary Plaza de España. Studying in Seville truly felt like a dream, and provided the perfect ending to my Spanish experience.
The most meaningful part of studying abroad wasn’t the sites, the food, or the language, but how I grew as a person. I took the initiative, sought out the necessary resources, and proved to myself that I can do anything I set my mind to with hard work and the support of my friends and family. By the end of this trip I was a pro traveler and a more confident, knowledgeable, and independent woman. If you are dedicated, you can turn your dreams into reality and live your life with no regrets, but the first step is to believe. And although I dearly miss the Spanish bread, gelato and beautiful buildings, I was excited to come home and share my experiences with my friends and family who helped me get there.
Category: Student Peer Advisors
Student Peer Advisors are Honors Students with the know-how to help you how-to the UHP!
#HonorsProblems: Surviving Organic Chem
The following blog post was written by Naomi Naik, a CCAS senior studying biology and english (through the combined BA/MA program). Naomi is also pursuing the pre-med track. You can find out more about her here.
The molecule looked like a giant jellyfish. Or maybe a spider. Halfway through my organic chemistry final, the monster lay there on the page, mocking me. My task: explain how the ungainly molecule folds into a tidy package. The problem: I had no clue. Maybe if I looked at it sideways? No, that didn’t help. This was getting ugly.
Contemplating changing my major, I spent eight months sophomore year slogging through two semesters of organic chemistry, or orgo, the course widely known for weeding out pre-meds. When I wasn’t hopelessly confused, I spent my time wondering what the class was actually about. Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just about organic chemistry. For me, the overriding question was not “Is this on the test?” but rather “What are they really testing?”
Orgo has been haunting pre-meds since 1910, when the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching released a landmark report calling for tougher admission standards to medical school and for medical training based on science. Hence emerged science prerequisites that have remained virtually unchanged: two semesters each of biology, physics and general and organic chemistry.
The report was meant to professionalize medicine but led to generations of doctors more grounded in science than in the humanities. This is not necessarily bad, but lately a sense has emerged that the pendulum has swung too far. Medical schools are tweaking admission protocols, looking beyond an A in orgo for future doctors who are less Spock and more Kirk.
So what is organic chemistry, anyway? And why is it so difficult? Basically, orgo examines how molecules containing carbon interact, but it doesn’t require equations or math, as in physics. Instead, you learn how electrons flow around and between molecules, and you draw little curved arrows showing where they go. This “arrow pushing” is the heart and soul of orgo.
To develop orgo intuition, you solve problems and draw arrow-pushing mechanisms again and again, until they become instinctive. This takes a huge amount of time, for me 20 to 30 hours a week. The class turned me into a bore, a sleep-deprived, orgo-obsessed grind who saw the shapes of molecules in every sidewalk crack and snack cracker.
My study group and I called orgo the “bad boyfriend,” because it stole so much time from our personal lives. As in, “I just blew off Thanksgiving dinner to hang out with the bad boyfriend.” This is one thing that orgo is testing: whether you have the time and desire to do the work.
At first, this commitment of time and psyche did not pay off. On the first exam I scored well below the mean. My problem sets came back with whole pages slashed out in red pen. I felt stupid and demoralized. But slowly, orgo awakened my long-dormant spatial-reasoning skills, and I (occasionally) started to enjoy some of the problems.
Second semester, I had a breakthrough. On the third exam, stuck halfway through the final problem, I tried a new strategy. I put down my pencil, leaned back and stopped thinking. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the answer sprang into my mind’s eye. “Oh, my God!” I thought. “I actually have orgo instinct!” After that, everything started clicking.
When the final exam came, I was ready. I chugged through the first few pages, then stopped. There lay the giant jellyfish-spider, streaming carbon chains like tentacles. Draw the arrows? I didn’t even know where to start. Next problem, just as bad. The test became not a showcase of my new orgo instinct but a scramble for damage control. I guessed I got a C.
When the test ended, the students sat stunned. “What was that?” my study partner asked. “A monkey could have done better on that exam than me.” Later, in the bathroom, one of our classmates sobbed as another consoled her.
The day after the final, a physician friend gave me a celebratory gift: a stethoscope. I told her about the exam, and she nodded. “That’s a terrible feeling,” she agreed. “It’s kind of how you feel when you lose your first patient.”
Of course, bombing a test isn’t the same as watching someone die. But what’s similar is that dreadful realization of your own limits, that terrible moment when you stop controlling the situation and start mitigating the damage. I expect that’s an all-too-common feeling in medicine. I often felt that way in orgo, but kept going back for more. That’s what orgo is testing, I think: resilience. And humility.
I got a B on the final, by the way. You know what? I’ll take it!
The Intern Files: Winrock International
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Eva, a senior in the Elliott School studying international affairs (and getting ready to graduate in December!).
Since May, I have been interning at an international development organization called Winrock International. It was founded by Winthrop Rockefeller (get it? Win-Rock?) and strives to empower the disadvantaged in the US and abroad. I was brought on to support the closure (aka closeout) of the Room to Learn South Sudan project, a USAID-funded program increasing access to primary education in South Sudan, especially for vulnerable and marginalized children. My very first major task was to create a tracker in Excel to document what paperwork had been received for each of 991 grants. Copying and pasting all the individual 11-digit grant numbers and their pertaining school names was NOT the most thrilling task, nor was color-coding cells to document the state of the paperwork. However, I was surprised to find that I actually really liked when I had all the information together and could really easily determine what was missing, what was incorrect, and what the next steps were to ensure compliance. I did the same review for HR files (staff files) – for over 120 South Sudanese staff.
All the documentation for literally EVERYTHING in the project got sent to our office in Arlington. It’s like Christmas, if you wrote to Santa asking for 31 giant boxes of paperwork. So I spend a lot of time sitting in what I call “The Cave.” Here’s a picture (and yes, the back row is double stacked):
It’s actually really soothing to tune into some podcasts (I recommend Serial, Lore, or Stuff You Should Know), and just organize papers, and it’s secretly one of my favorite tasks.
I also learned how to deal with a security emergency during July when we had to evacuate our international staff due toviolence in Juba. I can say that I have supported a project which directly reached over 300,000 primary students in South Sudan by providing them materials essential to education, which is a lot of kids – let alone their teachers, parent-teacher associations, and local education officials who also received training and support. I learned how to manage a project budget, calculate burn rates (spending), I tracked the transfer of over 1400 assets valuing over $1 million, and I currently am editing our annual report which describes all aspects of the project that took place over the last fiscal year – October 1, 2015-September 30, 2016.
So. If any of these things sound cool to you, you should definitely look at internships and jobs in international development! Any domestic job is going to be super administrative – you have to be detail oriented, focused, and able to quickly learn new applicable skills that you definitely weren’t taught in class. Lots of entry level development jobs want you to have experience in administrative tasks including donor compliance, budgeting, event planning, and booking travel, and this kind of internship is a great way to get that alongside exposure to any variety of “technical” areas of development – education, civil empowerment, agriculture, environment, WASH (water, sanitation and hygiene).
“But Eva,” you might be saying, “I really want to go abroad and actually do development!” Well, that’s awesome! The best way to do that (or work in development domestically) is to learn your basic administrative project management skills, but then get some experience in the technical area of your interest! You should also look up development organizations that work in your area of interest to get a sense of what’s out there, and look at specific jobs to see the qualifications and experience required or preferred – that will help you shape your plans and decisions for classes, other internships, and work after graduation.
So, if you’re interested in international development, I would absolutely recommend looking into specifics of the field to get a sense of what exactly the jobs are like! Go to career events, join networking organizations, and speak with professionals – these will all help inform your quest to improve the world.
The Extra-Curricular: Balance
This blog post was written by Annie Kadets, a senior in CCAS studying organizational sciences and psychology.
Hello! Let me tell you why I love being a member of Balance: The GW Ballet Group. We are an all inclusive, diverse and AWESOME organization on campus that welcomes dancers of all levels to dance with us–we don’t cut anyone from our shows!
Our winter show is always the classic Nutcracker and in the spring we showcase all different styles of dance. Everything that we perform is choreographed by our talented students in Balance. How cool is that?!
What is amazing about Balance is you get to interact with students of all ages and backgrounds. I’ve met two of my closest friends in Balance and we get along so well partly because of our shared an interest and passion for dance!
I dance because when I do I don’t think about anything else. Amongst the stressful week of school, an hour or two with my friends in Balance always lightens my mood. Balance isn’t a competitive environment; we always want to enjoy ourselves while we dance but also learn while we do that. I have danced all my life and I knew I wanted to continue in college but I knew I didn’t want it to be as serious as when I was in high school. Balance is the perfect balance (J) of the two. We get to put on an impressive show of fantastic dancing and enjoy ourselves while doing that. I highly recommend trying it out, especially our Spring show because that showcases all different styles of dance including ballet, tap, jazz, hip hop and more!
UHPers in the (White) House! [Profs on the Town]
The following blog post was written by Benjamin Falacci, a freshman in Professor Aviv’s Origins course titled “Eudaimonia: The Art of Living.”
It was Friday afternoon, in my first semester of college. It was down the street, a short walk, it felt like no big deal. However, it was the White House. After only a month of living in Washington, DC, a group of four Honors Program students and I had the opportunity to go on a tour of the West Wing, conducted by a former GW Honors Program student. No big deal. Despite the ease and the casual conversation between our group and our tour guide Sarah Chase, a White House employee, I had to keep reminding myself that this was indeed a big deal. We strolled past portraits of the President taken throughout his administration that portrayed him holding staff’s babies, high-fiving kids in the street, and passing a basketful with some ‘co-workers’; all images that instilled a relatable connection to our country’s President. Seconds later, we passed by the President’s chief photographer in the same hallway as the situation room–again no big deal.
After years of watching White House-orientated TV series like The West Wing and House of Cards, I felt as if I knew my way around the building. Surprisingly, the Oval Office did seem smaller in person, but that realization was quickly replaced with awe when we were allowed so close to the Resolute Desk that you could distinguish President Obama’s personal photographs kept on display behind the desk.
Though a lot of adrenaline was brought on by seeing the rose garden’s colonnade, the Oval Office, the Cabinet Room, the Roosevelt Room, and the Press Briefing room, the real excitement came from talking with a GW student who actually worked in all these places who had gone through experiences not unlike those of which I am going through right now, for example taking an almost identical freshman course load. Our time in the White House was more than a tour, it was an eye opening experience that shed light on the purpose of coming to DC, and optimistically it foreshadowed a bright future here, right down the street from campus.
Study Ablog: From Paris with Love
The following blog post was written by Peer Advisor Alyssa, a senior in CCAS studying anthropology and French. You can learn more about her here.
Not All Those Who Wander are Lost
From my sophomore year of high school, I wanted to study abroad in a foreign country for an entire academic year. My history teacher that year had inspired and challenged me to throw myself into a new culture, new language, and new group of people. However, it was always a vague idea and not something concrete for me to hold in my hands. My first two years at GW were about making that idea a reality, though at times I felt as overwhelmed as Bilbo serving thirteen dwarves and a wizard at his house. I had to schedule my classes just right balancing them between Honors and my major and my general education (just as perilous as the dwarves cleaning up Bilbo’s house). Then I had to find the perfect program, apply to it, and get approval from my departments and from Study Abroad. But, it happened, after a long spring semester I had found the perfect program—a language immersion program in Paris through Academic Programs Abroad.
Finally, the day was here. I was stepping on the plane that was about to take me off American soil and to the adventure that would be the rest of my year. At first, I felt like Bilbo—dashing off with my possessions, contract in hand! Yet, when I landed in the Paris airport after little sleep, I had to navigate the French train system by myself and started to regret my decision. I stood there in the Paris airport, jet-lagged, barely able to communicate, and with far too much time to think as I waited 6 hours for my train to arrive. I had just left everything I knew and loved—my house, my parents, my friends, my dog—to live in this place where I knew no one and could not even speak to people with my own language. I was stuck here until May and while here, everyone’s lives would move on without me.
Yet, even from my first day in Paris, I knew I made the right choice. There were hardships—getting lost in the city, or eating in the university cafeteria on the first day. All those little hardships helped me prove to myself that I can do anything if I take a deep breath and jump into any situation. I met one of my good friends on the first day at the university table when I finally got up the courage to eat with another lonely person at a table. My program challenged me to come out of my shell. Each adventure allowed me to learn more about myself—how do I react with being in a new city by myself? How do I represent myself in a language that is not my own? While wandering around France and Europe, I found the answers to these questions and more.
Now that I am there and back again, I realized my fears about life moving on without me, were just fears. I am back at GW and better than ever. Of course, life kept moving for my friends while I was in France, however, my life kept moving too. Though it sounds cliché, studying abroad for the year was the best decision of my life. I did not just grow in regards to my language, or academics, or even travel savvy. I grew. I came back as a person who was more confident, more open, more knowledgable about the world outside of the US. As Frodo Baggins said, “How do you pick up the threads of your old life…when in your heart you know there is no going back?” There is no going back to being the same person after you have walked among different people, spoken a different language, and lived a different life for a year. However, the life experience, the language skills, and the fantastic relationships you gain are vaux le peine (worth it). I highly suggest going abroad for a year, because while “wandering” around the world, you might just find yourself.
#HonorsProblems: Graduating Early, or an Essay of Hope
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Eva Martin, a senior in the Elliott School studying International Affairs. You can learn more about Eva here.
Graduating from high school was probably one of the happiest moments of my life – I’ve never really been one for posterity and nostalgia. So the prospect of graduating from GW in three and a half years instead of four was dazzling – I could save some money for grad school, I could enter the workforce earlier and start saving for adult things, I could travel. But in many ways, it felt like a failure. Was it normal that I didn’t want an extra semester of ~college~? Was I shortchanging myself by turning down the opportunity to take a whole semester of electives while simultaneously putting off the inevitable responsibilities of adult life? What if I don’t find a job? What if no one is hiring for entry-level positions in January? What if I end up doing something I hate because it was my only option? The what ifs are somewhat out-burning the dazzle.
In the end, it is my family whose stories have helped me come to terms with my uncertain future. My dear mother, who went to school for art and came out as a teacher, who took time off after graduating and worked in a gift shop before returning for her master’s in education. She worked as an educator – both as a teacher and as an administrator – for decades, touching the lives of thousands of parents, teachers, and of course, children. She too, was once uncertain of what was next. My dear father, who was drafted out of graduate school to serve in the military, who drifted through the Middle East before getting a PhD in classical languages, and then returned to the States to get a degree in library science. He worked for the Library of Congress for 30 years, working on the research floor, as a loaner to the House Appropriations Committee, who learned HTML before it was cool and went on to contract for the White House and Lockheed Martin, who this week leaves for France to augment his half-dozen certifications in wine (also to drink said wine). My father too took a circuitous path through the many fields that he loved. My dear fiancée, whose plan it was to serve in the active military, who was impacted by the decrease in defense spending and is now serving our country through Teach for America and the DC National Guard. His worst subject was always math, and now he teaches math to 7th graders who are categorized as having special education needs, treating them with the same respect that he was trained to give to his soldiers. His plan was interrupted by things outside his control, and so he returned to his own 7th grade dream – that of teaching.
Graduating early is scary. But graduating any time is scary too. There is so much pressure to succeed immediately, to find your niche, to contribute to society (and contribute to your alma mater). Graduating early just means that pressure comes sooner, and can be a bit more lonely, since there aren’t as many others feeling the stress alongside you. But I have found solace in the paths of my loved ones, who weren’t by any means straight to success, but have been rich and full of experience, stories, and connection with other humans. I think that is what I will strive for as my search for the next thing intensifies, as I flip flop between industries and position types and graduate school options – knowing my path probably won’t be straight, but trying to take joy from each step along the way.
The Intern Files: National Park Service
The following blog post was written by peer advisor Michaela, a senior in SEAS studying civil engineering and international affairs. To find out more about Michaela, see her bio here.
This past summer, I interned as an Engineering Technician for the National Park Service, in the National Mall and Memorial Parks. You know those weird-wonderful dreams you’ve had where you became a resident of Pawnee, Indiana, and got to chase Lil’ Sebastian (Rest in Peace) and accidentally marry gay penguins? Well, as an avid fan of Parks and Recreation, I now had the opportunity to live that dream, or so I thought.
Don’t get me wrong, I came in as a strong Leslie Knope, with unbridled enthusiasm, ready to break into the boy’s club of park maintenance and renovations. But after the glow of being employed by a great organization wore off, after realizing that my job was predominantly computer based, and especially after walking up every stair of the Washington Monument (that thing is too tall), I started to identify more with April Ludgate. I worked on drawings of bathroom renovations and concrete plans, sat in a cubicle, and rarely got to go outside. 
Because of this and the fact that much of my job was to point out flaws in the parks and memorials, April’s deadpan humor and utter hatred of her internship made a lot of sense. Coming to work became a drag, and I realized that working 8 hours a day, 5 days a week can get really boring.
There were moments where I remembered my Knope-ish side, however. Case in point: The M. One day, our Cultural Architect walked in with multiple pictures of an M. Actually not an M, but a lack of an M. You see, there is an inscription on a stone on the ground of the Korean War Memorial, all in metal plated letters. An M had popped off of the inscription in March, and it needed to be replaced before Korean government officials visited DC in a couple weeks. We didn’t have any drawings of the M in our files, so the Cultural Architect and I scanned the picture of where the M was supposed to be, drew and cut a couple Ms, and then headed out to the memorial to see which one fit best. 
Now instead of wondering about urinal heights behind a computer, I was crouched over hot stones at the Korean War Memorial, debating M angles, while many tourists and tour groups walked by, some of them taking pictures of our desperate attempts to find the perfect M. Some tourists asked us questions and thanked us for our work (I had no idea what they were talking about. I mean come on, it’s an M). One woman even teared up at our devotion to the memorial and, by the transitive property, our nation.
I tell this story because while yes, I was extremely bored the majority of my internship, there were moments that were unbelievably entertaining and engaging. There were moments that made the boredom bearable because despite working on drawings, I was indirectly helping people experience our nation’s history through its memorials and parks. There were moments when yes, that weird dream was reality and my coworkers and I had the comedic timing of the Parks and Rec crew. But an internship is, in fact, a full-time, tiring, job, and it’s ok to feel like April Ludgate about your internship. Just so long as you feel like Leslie Knope about your career, and keep enthusiasm about the future.
The Extra-Curricular: Generic Theater Company
The following blog post was written by Allie, a sophomore peer advisor studying math and economics. You can learn more about Allie here.
Welcome to GW, where you may be able to find a freshman who already has a job secured for after graduation. We go to school in a busy city where a lot of students are very career minded (which is awesome), but I am here to tell you that it is okay to be involved with student organizations that have nothing to do with your major (and plot twist—it can actually be extremely helpful for you).
Hi guys, I am a sophomore double majoring in Math and Economics (tune in to my next blog “When people are terrified of your majors”…joking…kind of). There are a bunch of great organizations on campus in the math/economic fields of which I am involved in some of them and they are awesome; but, one of the main student groups that I am involved with is student theatre.
I am the Co-Finance Director of Generic Theatre Company which is one of four student theatre groups on campus (14th Grade Players, Forbidden Planet Productions and GW Shakespeare Company are the others). I also assistant stage managed two shows last year and am assistant directing “Other Desert Cities” this semester. (This is a shameless plug but please, please come audition on September 23 and 24 in the Marvin Center. If you don’t want to audition, come see it November 10-12! Alright, shameless plug over).
Student Theatre is a vibrant community and are always looking for new members no matter what year you are and no matter how much previous experience you have had. I personally am always looking to get more UHPers involved in theatre. Each company puts on about 3 shows per semester so that’s 12 shows each semester (I know this because I am a math major.) We are always looking for new people to audition for shows, to work on production teams like me (Stage Managing, Directors…), to design (set, lights, sound, costume), and to be involved in other aspects of tech [backstage/run crew, set/build crew, board ops (basically press the buttons for the light and sound cues)]. If you don’t want to work on a show, just come see them and be a great audience member. They really are a ton of fun, and let me tell you, people at GW are talented!
Do I plan to have a career in theatre? No. But, do I love my student theatre family and my Generic Theatre Family? Yes. Also, your extra-curriculars do not need to reflect your majors. If you enjoy something and are passionate about it or just want to try something new, get involved! I promise, it is not a waste of your time. I have met a lot of my closest friends through student theatre and found a truly incredible and welcoming community on campus. Even if you really just want to find a job, employers like seeing that you have interests in other stuff. Fun fact: I got my summer internship (at wealth management firm) in part because of my involvement with theatre. They liked that I had a passion and communication skills from theatre in addition to my quantitative math skills. So my advice, go out and get involved with something new that you find fun (and if that is student theatre, awesome).
If you have more questions about student theatre or life in general please don’t hesitate to reach out to me at amaier425@gwu.edu.
Study Ablog: From Chile with Love
The following blog post was written by Abby Brook, a sophomore in the Elliott School studying international affairs, the Middle East, international development, and music. You can find out more about Abby here.
On about my fourth week in Valparaíso, Chile, something happened that could have happened anywhere in the world: I slept through my alarm. Now normally, this would not have been a big deal, but today was unique. Today, I was waking up at 5 am to go on a beautiful hike in La Campana National Park with a group of friends from my program. This hike is special because when you got to the top, you can see all the way from the Pacific Ocean to the Andes that are splayed across Chile’s beautiful landscape. This was also my last weekend in Chile, and possibly my only chance to ever experience this truly incredible beauty.
As I double-checked my phone clock to make sure I hadn’t read it wrong, a thousand thoughts zoomed through my head. It was 7 am, my host family was asleep, my friends were long gone, and none of them had cell service here towards the tip of the earth. More than missing a hike, I felt like I had let a simple mistake allow an experience slip through my fingers. This was by no means a serious activity to miss, but I was disappointed in myself and frustrated. I sat on my couch, befuddled.
But then, I realized something, something I had always known in my heart but now had the chance to act on. I had done so many new and challenging things in the past year: moved across the country by myself, had to figure out how to adapt to East Coast culture, made new friends, lost new friends, tried new things, and given up old things. Now here I was, in a new country with a different language, culture, and way of life. I had come this far and decided I would not let an alarm dictate my day.
I was strong, independent, and capable. I could go alone.
I knew that I needed to catch two buses, called micros. Micros are one of the main ways to get around in Valparaíso. To take the micro, you have to raise your hand on the sidewalk so the bus will stop and you have to know where you need to get off so you can alert the driver–not an easy task for a gringa like myself, even with my proficient Spanish skills. I threw together a sack lunch consisting of pan y banana and ran out the door. Once I reached the corner where I had been told the bus would come, I waited several minutes with many micros passing, all going other places. Soon, however, the bus, whose existence I had become skeptical of, appeared.
The experience on the micro captures a snap shot into what being thrown into Chilean culture feels like: at times overwhelming, but always saturated with incredibly kind people. There are some unspoken rules about riding in the micro. Whenever an elderly person or someone with children gets on and there are no seats, someone immediately offers their seat to them. This kind of kindness to strangers was something I witnessed by Chileans every day. People of every shape and size filed in and out of the crowded bus, on the way to their daily routines.
Given that I had never been to La Campana before, I had no way of knowing when to get off. I eventually got the courage to chat with a couple and ask if they knew where my stop was, and they said they were going to La Campana as well. I relaxed knowing I would get there just fine. I began reflecting on what I had done: taken transportation that I would have never imagined being able to use, spoken easily to Chileans in Spanish, and most importantly realized that I had chosen to go to a completely strange place by myself and I had complete confidence in myself to do all those things.
I ended up catching up to my group on the trail; after all, there is only one trail up and one trail down. As I walked alone, I thought about all the people who had helped me along the way, to reach my humble destination, but also in my path to where I was in my life in that exact moment. So many people had loved and supported me, and were cheering me on from their respective places around the world. By the time I reached the beautiful summit of La Campana and stretched out my arms to feel the crisp Chilean winter air, I realized something equally important.
I may have chosen to go by myself, but I am never alone.
Everyday, everyone has their own mountain to climb. Some
days, it may feel like an anthill and others, Mt. Everest. But I learned two important things that day, thanks to something as silly as missing my alarm.
You can always, ALWAYS, do it, even if it means you have to go by yourself. But remember, no matter where you are, how alone or scared you feel, no matter what mountain you have to climb, you are never, NEVER, alone.
