1:00 AM – I finished stuffing the last of the t-shirts into my check-in bag. I briefly scoped my room, looking for any straggling clothes, money, or gifts. Satisfied with my efforts, I zipped up my suitcase and moved it to the side. I heard a knock behind me. My exchange student, Martín, was at the door. I asked him if there was a problem; he merely wanted to talk for some time. I smiled and let him in. What ensued was a conversation unlike any other I’ve experienced. We shared our reflections of the past week, shared laughter, and shared honest dialogue. We reflected on the new friends we’d made and the new experiences we’d shared. We laughed at the sheer amount of activities we’d managed to pack into seven days, from exploring Buenos Aires in the span of one afternoon to parties that ended at four in the morning. We discussed global affairs, comparing our experiences within our respective countries on topics such as social conflicts, economic troubles, and political turmoil. After a certain point, the time didn’t particularly matter to me anymore because I knew that we were truly connecting.
2:30 AM – I turned off the lights and lay in bed. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. Too many thoughts were flying around in my head. The conversation had ignited a feeling from within me, an intangible one that consisted of joy, guilt, sorrow, awe, and longing. As I tossed around, feelings of bittersweet remembrance bombarded me, confirming a truth I did not want to accept: this day wouldn’t be easy. In less than twelve hours, I’d have to leave this place, this community, this home, but I wasn’t ready. I lay awake for some more time. At some point, the flurry of thoughts calmed down and sleep provided me with a brief respite from a day of goodbyes.
6:30 AM – my first goodbye was to Martín’s mother. From day one, she had provided for me as if I were her son, and yet, our goodbye lasted no longer than a minute. She knocked on the door, told me how much she was going to miss having me around, and left for a morning run. I went downstairs to have breakfast. The second goodbye was to our family’s maid. Working in tandem with Martín’s mother, she made sure I never had to do any semblance of housework, be it washing the dishes or washing clothes or the most basic of cleaning. All the while, we would engage in frank conversations about the state of affairs in Argentina, offering me a refreshing new perspective on life in the country. I finished breakfast, said a third goodbye to the family’s three dogs, and tossed my suitcase into the car. We drove away from the place I called home for the past week.
My fourth goodbye was to Martín’s father. A constant presence around the house, he would often greet Martín and I with his wit and humor while picking us up from various locations at often absurdly late times throughout the week. As his car sped away, I turned and entered Colegio North Hills for the last time.
8:15 AM – I walked into the auditorium we had called our home base all week. Something different was in the air – a strange combination of fatigue, camaraderie, and longing. Through forging bonds with our Argentine students, we grew closer to our American peers. We were a group who had spent a significant amount of time together, essentially experiencing one another’s experiences for a week. Looking around, I truly felt comfortable with letting my guard down around these people.
Our first activity of the day was with the English class. We worked with common English and Spanish proverbs, learning through a series of matching games, drawing activities, and short skits. After English class, we had a short break where we mingled with the students of the fourth grade (the equivalent of tenth graders here). Observing the conviviality and familiarity of the environment helped me realize how much we had grown in seven days. What had started as a group of individuals filled with timid curiosity and unfamiliarity had grown into a big, cohesive family.
Following our break, we had an activity with the Geography class. We divided ourselves into ten teams of about seven people each. Our task was to look at two pictures of notable landmarks – one in the USA and one in Argentina – and identify which landmark belonged where. After a hard-fought twenty-three rounds, my team unfortunately came up short in second place. It was now lunch time. We walked to the lunch hall to have our final lunch in Argentina.
12:30 PM – My fifth goodbye came towards the end of lunch. It was a rather unexpected one. On the very first day of our time in Argentina, we visited the kindergarteners at North Hills. There, I met a young girl named Maitena. During our first encounter, she was curious about who I was and where I came from; she coupled this curiosity with an outgoing personality that took me by surprise. She was capable of chatting anyone up, and after a few minutes of doing so with me, I found myself growing attached to her. As I finished up my lunch, I walked to the exit when I caught her eating with her classmates out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t want to pass up this opportunity. I waved to her from a distance before walking over and giving her a hug. We talked for a few minutes; I told her I was leaving for the United States today, and she asked me when I was returning – I lied and said “soon”. Her teacher called out to the students, notifying them that their lunch time was over. Maitena ran to the door, turned back, and ran towards me to give me a hug. I felt uneasy. I knew that the goodbyes would only get tougher from here on out.
Following lunch, we had about twenty or twenty-five minutes remaining with our new friends. The bus was to arrive at 1:00 PM. What started as a few pictures and reflections transformed into boisterous laughter and emphatic embraces. As the clock ticked on, we felt an urgency to hold onto every moment. This urgency soon manifested itself as tears. It started with a few, isolated people, but it spread like a wildfire. We were beginning to realize the true scope of a ten-month separation from our new friends, and it was not a happy realization. The bus arrived. One by one, we started peeling away from the large group to get our bags and board the bus. As I walked away, I too was consumed by emotion.
1:30 PM – My eyes red and eyelids puffy, I looked out of the window of our bus. One by one, the landmarks we had seen on daily commutes and trips were receding into the distance. I looked at my friends, who I could tell were all thinking the same thing: we were not ready to leave. It was like we were waking up from a dream, a dream that made us smile, laugh, and feel – a dream that made us wish we had stayed asleep for some more time. A week, a day, an hour; at that moment, I was willing to give anything for some more time.
–Vibhav
Similar to everyone other morning, I woke up to my alarm. Unfortunately, accompanying my shoes and backpack on the ground was a gargantuan suitcase. After weighing the suitcase nine times, using various angles and sides to maximize accuracy, I relaxed a bit because the scale said it was only 43.2 pounds. 6.8 pounds shy of 50, it was a comfortable margin.
The last breakfast was a sad one. I drank tea and had my last sweet, sugar filled piece of lemon bread. We ate slowly, hoping to savor our last few moments together.
Valeria, Male’s mom, and I took my bag outside and had to roll it around the front yard because we were unable to push it through the grass. In the car, Male and I took photo after photo, each photo we took got us closer to realizing that that photo could be the last one we took together.
Vicky (shoutout to Mr and Mrs Jin) had an extra carry on suitcase that was returned to her in Argentina, so thankfully a few of us were able to offload some of our heavier items (ie 6 boxes of alfajores and other assorted sweets).
After arranging our bags, half of the fourth year (the year our exchange students are in) came in to have a fun lesson about proverbs and sayings in spanish and english. During this lesson we matched parts of phrases and then drew and acted them out. My group, a mix of Cary Academy and North Hills students drew the phrase, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” I took some creative liberties when drawing our “horse”. After my artistic rendition of a horse was criticized by numerous people, Emily decided to take a crack at drawing one. Similar to me, she also fell far short of decency. Following her, Abby, Eden, Firmin, and Martina (two students from North Hills), also we’re unable to draw something that resembles a horse.
Our lesson ended with a bang! Our skit depicted the phrase “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” and we sure did try! The setting: the bowling alley, the predicament: Eden cannot hit the pins. She bowled the bowling ball (me) into the pins (Abby and Emily) twice before she knocked them all down!
The break after classes was one of the saddest parts of the day. On the basketball court stood a huge gaggle of crying people hugging and taking pictures. You would hug someone and then run across the court to hug someone else. Seeing people crying made me want to cry, but don’t worry mom and dad, I stood strong. We took picture after picture, delaying our departure as much as possible.
Alas, the time came and we had to leave. We loaded the bus and took final pictures at the front of the school and from the top level of the bus (yes!! two levels!!).
The bus ride to the airport went smoothly and quickly, and then we got to the airport. The check-in desks did not open until 3 hours before the flight starts boarding and naturally we got there 5 hours before the flight. We dawdled in the airport, buying last minute gifts and trying to spend our last pesos.
Once the line to check in was open, it moved quickly. I was quite apprehensive about how heavy my bag was. 50 pounds seems like a lot, but somehow on the trip to Argentina my suitcase weighed 47.5 pounds. I thought my suitcase would be light on the way home because I would have given away all the gifts that I brought. I was very wrong. Upon my arrival I realized I was going to come home with much more than I started out with. As we reached the front of the line I noticed that the scales measured in Kilograms (which I should have known ahead of time). We frantically converted 50 pounds to Kilograms and found that it is 22.72 kg. At this point I was nervous because my arms were barely able to lift the suitcase onto the scale (granted i’m not the strongest). My suitcase weighed only 20.0 kg! I was safe! This took a load off of my shoulders both mentally and physically.
After getting our suitcases checked and getting our boarding passes it was smooth sailing. Once past security we were looking for some food to eat before the flight as airplane food is often ~questionable~. We came across sandwiches and pizza at a small grab-and-go restaurant. I got a cheese pizza and it was delicious, quite possibly the most delectable airport food I have ever had! At the gate we saw some of our classmates that ventured to Quilmes. It was nice to see them but bittersweet because it meant that our trip was really over.
As I am writing this we have been flying for 2 hours. Beside me, Quinn has already been asleep on and off about four times and my other side, Samantha has taught me the capitals of every South American country and is muy triste (sad) about leaving :(. Me too.
–Talia
