Study abroad?
Throughout my life, I have heard the same word used to describe me: “Whitewashed. This word haunts me, for what does it mean to be whitewashed in a place where there is little representation of my culture? I felt like it was my fault I did not know anything
about where I came from. Yes, I had my family, but they could only teach me so much about what it meant to be Brazilian. I longed for a connection to my culture—to better understand who I was.
When I saw that there was a study abroad program to Brazil, I nearly jumped out of my seat; I felt elated at the idea of reconnecting with my roots. But soon, anxiety began to take hold of that excitement, twisting it into a fear that held me paralyzed.
Would I be qualified to even go on a trip like this? Am I going to be able to academically stay on track? What if my classmates do not like me? What if I am not “Brazilian”enough? These what-ifs bounced around in my head for weeks. Only when my parents made me look at it from a purely academic standpoint did I submit my application. Yes, I was nervous—but my need for academic success overruled any excuses I tried to make. To miss out on visiting a place with such a rich culture and interacting with indigenous communities felt foolish to pass up. This would be invaluable knowledge in my field as a future psychologist. Understanding the human mind outside of a Western lens would no doubt create much better opportunities for me in the future. Who would I be to give up that kind of opportunity?
Yet, I also felt something bubbling up from the back of my mind as I signed up for the program: a twinge of excitement at the prospect of learning about who I was, what my culture was like, and what it might mean to me. After I was accepted into the program, the months flew by, and not long after signing up, I found myself on a twelve-hour flight to Brazil with a backpack, a fanny pack, and a carry-on full of vacuum-sealed clothes.
We’re Not in Washington Anymore
After a few near-miss connections and a twelve-hour flight, I found myself in Campo Grande, the capital of Mato Grosso do Sul. It was a sunny day when we arrived; the heat felt like an inescapable force that permeated every nook and cranny of your skin,
and the air carried the notes of fruit as you inhaled. So this was Brazil—I watched out the window of the moving bus our professor had arranged for us. It was so different from what I expected, but at the same time it was comforting. Despite the sense of comfort, I was still extremely jet-lagged and longed for a bed and a shower. So, when we arrived at the hotel, I immediately passed out. Only six hours later did I wake up to be greeted by individuals from the college that our program was working with. We had a lovely dinner, and little did I know how quickly the rest of the trip would pass. Each day I would wake up at nine in the morning to go down and eat breakfast from the hotel buffet, taking great care to stock up on my favorite Brazilian snack, pão de queijo.
The food was so similar to the meals my grandmother would make me when she still lived in Washington. Each bite felt like I was a little closer to my childhood.
After I was done shoveling all the food I could into my mouth, I would run back up to my room to grab my bag for class. Here we would meet and listen to brilliant speakers share their experiences in Brazil—many of them fought for the rights of indigenous
people and African-Brazilians who had little representation. These lectures were eye-opening for many reasons, but I personally found the similarities shared with the U.S. to be the most surprising. However, these talks were not the only things we would do. Often, we would go on an excursion after a speaker finished. Before leaving, we would invite our new acquaintances to have lunch with us at the nearby buffet where the food was good and the price was low. Some days—and most days towards the end of the trip—we would frequent a padaria where the employees learned our names and orders.
The mini-trips we took consisted of visiting communities we had learned about. My favorite visit was when we went to an indigenous school where we played soccer with the kids. I felt so happy running around in the heat because, despite the fact that I was drenched in sweat, I experienced something I could previously only picture as a child. I was playing soccer in Brazil—now, as silly as that seems, I would always hear my tias and mom talking about how they would play as children. How it was a major part of their childhood that I never got to experience in the U.S. because, despite our soccer teams, it was never the same as futebol to them.
Of course, all good things have to come to an end. So when the last days crept up on me, I felt like both a lifetime had passed and yet less than a week. It was an odd feeling, leaving this place I found to be so close to home. Because, despite it being a different
country and a different language, it was familiar—like a worn stuffed animal you find at the bottom of your closet. Even so, the program was over, and whether I liked it or not, I had flights booked back home that I needed to catch. So, with a tearful goodbye and a closing dinner, my study abroad experience in Brazil became a memory.
Home, Bittersweet Home
Landing in SeaTac was abrupt, but I was too tired to care about the cool air infiltrating my nostrils or the clear skies. Only after a long shower and a rest did it sink in: I was home. Of course, sleeping in my own bed was heavenly, but I felt an absence I hadn’t
felt before. I missed the culture, the food, my classmates, the communities—all of it, and to this day I still do. If given the chance to relive my study abroad experience, I would do so without hesitation. It not only taught me about the struggles of indigenous and Black people in Brazil and how we can change for the better of the planet, but it also taught me that I was so much closer to my culture than I thought—I just did not see it. Yes, I missed my family, friends, and girlfriend deeply, but something about that trip just cannot be recreated. I experienced so many things, many more than I wrote down here. I shared so many laughs with my classmates, made connections I could not have dreamed of, and found so many amazing people in Brazil. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I am forever grateful I got to live through it.
If you ever find yourself doubting whether you should go on this trip or any other, don’t. If you have the opportunity, take it, because you never know what might be waiting for you on the other side of your application.
