Gabrielle (Elle) Poissant
ISEP Study in Chile – Spanish Language & Latin American Studies
Major: Political Science, Global Studies
Minor: World Politics
Pre-Departure Post
Hello 🙂
My name is Gabrielle (Elle), and I am studying abroad in Valparaíso in Chile for the Fall 2025 semester. Thanks for stopping in, and I hope you enjoy the ride.
All summer long, I was asked the inevitable question: “Are you anxious to study abroad?” more times than I can count. Most people can’t imagine uprooting their carefully built comfort, stepping away from their routines, and risking the unfamiliar. So when I answered, without hesitation, “No,” it often caught people off guard. But that confidence came from a promise I made to myself a year ago: that I would not let anxiety or fear have the final say in something as life-changing as this. The next 5 months of my life I will carry with me forever, the people I meet, the lessons learned in unfamiliar streets, the quiet triumphs and the loud stumbles, they will live in me long after I return. I am glad to have you here to see how this story will play out.
I’m Gabrielle. I am a junior at UMBC studying Political Science, Global Studies, World Politics, and Spanish. I will be studying at the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso. I chose this university for a whole bunch of reasons. The beautiful campus in the middle of the city, the homestay program, and the mandatory volunteer opportunities made my choice a no-brainer. But, the biggest game changer is their Spanish as a second language program. I looked for a place that wasn’t a perfect picture, or what I already knew, but something real, where I could truly explore beyond the bubble that I grew up in. In about 4 days, that bubble is going to pop, I am going to board that plane, and meet my new reality. But, for now, we are sitting on my bed, staring at a half-filled suitcase, wondering how the heck I am going to fit everything in my checked bag and a carry-on, but that sounds like a future Gabrielle problem.
“That sounds like a future Gabrielle problem” is a phrase I say often now. It’s what I said to myself when I was 18 planning this adventure, and it’s what I have said to myself these past few weeks to stay sane. I spent my summer by the pool, working the same at-home retail job that I’ve had since I was 16, and looking at the number counting down the days on my chalkboard wall. The number started at 65, but is now at a mere 4, and sooner than I would like, it will be a 0. When that number reaches zero, I will step off the plane after a long 12-hour trek, feeling confident and overprepared and probably really sore from sitting that long.
I guess I would be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious at all. I don’t think it’s because of the experience itself, I am very confident in my ability to be independent and adapt, but in anticipation of the future Gabrielle that will come out of this program. I am excited to be the version of myself that will be shaped by the beautiful city of Valparaiso, by the family that will open their home to me, by the crocheting con abuelos club, and by all the people that I have the privilege of meeting and learning from. For that future Gabrielle reading this, I have 3 questions that I hope you will answer:
- Describe the best day you had this semester, and why was it so meaningful to you?
- What was the most beautiful thing you witnessed that you couldn’t fully capture in a photo?
- What surprised you the most about yourself while living in Chile, and what advice would you give to past Gabrielle?
For whoever is reading, I want to remind you that you are strong, capable, and can do difficult and new things. Thank you all for reading and following along on my journey!
-Gabrielle
In-Country Post #2
Hello everyone,
Oh my gosh, where do I even start? These past 2 weeks have been the most nerve-wracking, life-changing, amazing, and overwhelming weeks all at once. If you would’ve told me even a month ago that this would be my life, I would not have believed you. At the end of each day, I have a journal that I write in to reflect, and every day when I open that journal to write, I feel more and more grateful for the life I am living now. Stay tuned for what I have been up to these past 2 weeks, and as always, thanks for reading. 
The morning my flight landed, I, along with a dozen other international students with about an hour of sleep tops, packed into our assigned bus. Our luggage was literally spilling out of the sides on the 2 hours from Santiago to our new homes in Viña del Mar. After yapping with our driver for what felt like days, and learning the meaning of cachai, bacán, and other various words native to Chile, we finally arrived. The city is so much bigger than I could have anticipated, and it is all structurally built on a hill. It has everything from castle-like medieval structures to small colorful houses with flowers in the front yard, to corporate-like modern buildings. I wish I could describe the city of Valparaiso with as much justice as it deserves. I’ve seen pictures, of course, but nothing could compare to the scene I saw in front of me.
The first week, I somehow survived a tsunami warning, and three days of straight rain while braving to go to my orientation session at my university. Surprisingly, navigating public transportation isn’t too hard here, but that’s only if you can make it off the bus with your life. Imagine the Knight Bus from Harry Potter, but somehow even faster. Most of the time, vendors from the streets will come onto the bus with food or miscellaneous items to sell. They will give an entire prepared monologue for a minute or two, with the most passion you have ever seen, just for no one to buy anything. My favorite part, though, is just staring out the window and looking at the mesmerizing city that I am driving through. I know that I am getting close to my university when you are driving right next to the sea, seeing the massive waves crash against the shore. 
Something very interesting about Chilean universities is that they have a very outdoor concept. It might just be due to the amazing weather, but it’s so nice to just sit outside after your class and do work. As I am typing this, I am at this outside cafe area watching one of the street cats sunbathe. There are campus buildings scattered all throughout the city, but they keep the international students’ classes all in one building. I absolutely love the classes that I have tried so far. I am taking this traditional dance class, where I literally get credit for just showing up and dancing. That kind of sums up the vibes of the rest of my classes, very easy, very fun, very Spanish learning oriented, which leaves a lot of time for exploring and adventures.
When I have time, and there is no tsunami warning, I love just walking the streets of the city. Each little street feels like its own world that I get to explore. Yesterday, after my class, I went for a really long walk, though it was more like hiking because of the intense incline. This time, I took a different turn down this unfamiliar street. Across the street, I saw a really tall staircase that led to a place I couldn’t see, with run-down steps and a red railing to hold onto. I stared at it for a couple of seconds, contemplating if I would brave the journey up it. 
The steps were uneven and steep, and halfway up, I wondered if I should have just turned around. But as I got closer to the top, there was a set of stairs that were painted like the solar system. It had the phrase “la distancia perfecta entre el sol y nuestro planeta es amor”, which means the perfect distance between the sun and our planet is love. At the top of this hill, after the last bit of the climb, you could finally see from edge to sea, the entire city stretched out like a living map. The moment felt surreal, like I had stumbled into a secret reserved only for those willing to climb without knowing what was at the top. My legs were burning, and my chest was tight, but I was able to see the entire city. That moment symbolizes my journey here and what I must do in order to continue growing. To get to see that view, you must climb the staircase. In order to get to the top, you have to choose every day to keep climbing, to keep pushing yourself. I want to reach the top, I want to learn Spanish, but I have to keep choosing to climb the stairs every day to get that.
Until next time
-Gabrielle Poissant
In-Country Post #3
Hello everyone,
Here is what I learned these past two weeks.
- I can’t tango for the life of me.
- Climbing up dunes of sand is a lot harder than you would think
- Running along the beach somehow subtracts 2 min from your mile time
Welcome back.
I know this is getting boring, but these past two weeks have also been amazing. I have finally settled into some sort of routine. Every morning I chow down on a Pink Lady apple while strolling to the metro station and listening to my cute little audiobook. I’ve never been a morning person, and I thought two 8 a.m.’s would kill me, but it’s funny how different environments can flip your habits. Life here is starting to feel a little more normal in the best way. I guess routine has a way of doing that to you.
These past two weeks I have improved a lot, not just in personal goals that I set for myself, but in my Spanish reading, writing, and listening. The journey is not easy though. Sometimes I feel like that one guy from Greek mythology who has to push a boulder up a hill every day, but it gets easier with every little step I take, and the boulder gets lighter as every week passes. One of those lighter moments came just the other day. Funnily enough, it happened on a day when I was frustrated with myself and my language progress. To cheer myself up, I decided to check out a new café and grab some food. As I opened the door, I saw an older man manning the counter, with his hair pulled back and a smile spreading across his face.I asked him what he recommended, and he in response asked a variety of questions to narrow down what I was in the mood for, and I answered them.
It was so simple, but that was the first conversation where a native spoke to me fully in Spanish and didn’t doubt my comprehension abilities for a second.
That small interaction might not seem like a huge deal, but it became a turning point, a reminder that progress doesn’t always announce itself in big, dramatic ways. Sometimes, it’s found in an ordinary café on an ordinary afternoon, when the boulder suddenly feels just a little bit lighter.
As we all know by now, I spend just about every spare moment exploring the city. About a week ago, I decided to check out Cerro Alegre.It’s one of those places that feels like it was designed to be wandered, with narrow streets winding up and down, every corner bursting with murals that tell a story so much deeper than the brushstrokes they are built upon. Honestly, it was probably the most touristy thing I’ve done so far. I couldn’t help myself. I stopped every couple of steps, mouth hanging open, snapping picture after picture like I’d never seen a mural before. In front of the murals were little cafés tucked around each corner, with metal tables laid out in front of them.
One café owner told me about his father who founded the shop, and his daughter, who will take it over in the next couple of years. The story behind each door makes this neighborhood so beautiful, so inimitable, and I am beyond grateful I got to experience it.
Gratitude has been a common theme of these past two weeks. I am grateful for the little red and yellow playground at the end of my street. I sat on those barely functioning swings and deeply connected with a new friend I welcomed into my life. I’m grateful for the beach, and the little vendors that line the pathway every evening with crystal jewelry and homemade pottery. On a hard day, one of those street vendors struck up a conversation with me, and I learned about his business and how he makes his jewelry. I am grateful for a little bar called “La Playa” in a not-so-nice part of town that hosted a tango dance class. That bar gave me free wine when the bartender saw how rigid my steps were. I am grateful for the bus rides across the coast, and the destinations that those bus rides take me to. I have been all the way from the deep, dense streets of Valparaíso to hiking the dunes of Concón. I’m grateful for the work that brought me here and for the people who continue to make each day meaningful and beautiful.
In-Country Post #4
Hello and welcome back, everyone!
Since the very first day I arrived in Chile, I’ve heard the legends of September 18th again and again from every Chilean I’ve met. The day, or rather, the entire week, of independence celebrations is unlike anything else. Thanks to the holiday, I’ve had a full week off from school, which has sparked countless adventures and new experiences.
I’d always been told that Chile’s September 18th celebrations and the Fourth of July back home were worlds apart, but I didn’t truly understand until my last class before break. My professors had transformed the third-floor café with Chilean flag themed decorations, and the tables were scattered with empanadas, sopaipillas, and some kind of fried dessert dusted with powdered sugar. For the entire class we ate, we danced, and we even learned how to make a terremoto, a signature Chilean drink with grenadine, pineapple ice cream, and a lemony alcoholic base. Not my favorite, but the fact we learned how to make an alcoholic drink in an academic class is so funny to me. That set the tone for the week ahead: endless eating, dancing, and buying little treasures along the way.
To kick things off, my friends and I hopped on a bus to Santiago, the capital, for a quick two day trip. We started in Plaza de Armas, a massive square lined with government buildings and religious landmarks. We toured the national congressional library, the Supreme Court, and the grand cathedral, each with clear European influence in their architecture. Just a few streets away, vendors were selling everything from Egyptian jewelry to K-pop trading cards. In the distance, traditional music floated through the air, leading us to a group of dancers in colorful dresses and cowboy hats performing the cueca. At the start of the dance, the men circle with a white handkerchief, signaling they’re looking for a partner. Thanks to my traditional dance class, and a hefty dose of peer pressure, I found myself out in the street, dancing cueca in Santiago! That night, we scored last-minute tickets to the ballet at the National Theatre. The seats were cheap and reflected that, but the experience itself felt priceless. Now I can say that I have seen Giselle at the National Theatre in Santiago.
The next day, we stopped at El Museo de Arte Precolombino to view their countless and plentiful collection of pre-Columbian and Indigenous art. There was an entire section dedicated to the specific Indigenous populations in Chile, especially the Mapuche. Chile educates its people openly about Indigenous groups and their role in shaping the country’s history and culture. The exhibits didn’t shy away from the complexities, showing both the richness of traditions and the struggles these communities have faced over centuries,
Later that day, we took the funicular up Cerro San Cristóbal, a towering hill in the middle of the city, where the giant white statue of the Virgin Mary keeps watch over Santiago. The view was breathtaking. On the way down, we hiked the trail and treated ourselves to a mote con huesillo, a sweet, peach-like drink, before catching the bus back home super tired but glowing from our spontaneous adventure.
No time to rest, though. The very next day, September 17th, we headed to Las Fondas. Imagine a state fair, but instead of rides being the main attraction, it’s the food. There were dozens of stands with fresh food being cooked in front of you. And we went all in, six rounds of different foods from anticuchos to churros stuffed with manjar. I don’t think I’ve ever been that full in my life. Between meals we rode the rides, watched live music on the main stage, and danced. After five hours of feasting (and more terremotos than I care to admit), we headed back home.
Finally, on the 18th itself, I joined my host family for a barbecue with one of my international friends. I walked in nervous, but an older woman greeted us with open arms and a warm smile. “¡Son las gringas!” she exclaimed. From there, it was foosball, conversation, and, of course, more food. By the end, I felt like I’d grown a second stomach, but it wasn’t just my appetite that was satisfied. I was deeply grateful that my host family had welcomed me so openly into their home and their holiday. Me and my friend for most of the event sat on the edge of an empty pool a little nervous, but I did force myself to socialize halfway through. It was so special seeing firsthand how special family and connections are to Chilean people. They are so welcoming, and warm, and thankfully spoke to me very slowly so I could understand and respond to them.
After just three of the seven days of independence week, I can say with confidence: it lives up to the hype. And it is nothing like any holiday I’ve ever experienced in the U.S.
As always, thank you for following me along on this journey.
—Gabrielle
In-Country Post #5
Hello readers!
It’s been a well needed slow past two weeks after the intensity of the dieciocho week, but I still have some great adventures that I am beyond excited to share
The metro I take to school every morning goes all the way to a place called Limache. The stops from my house to the school are near one end of the line, while Limache is the very last stop on the other end. One day, my friend and I decided to ride the metro all the way to Limache just to see what was out there. When I told my host mom about our plan, she said that Limache is very rural and quite different from Viña del Mar, where I’m staying. I hadn’t really seen the rural side of Chile before, so I was excited to make the trek. After a long gym session, my friend and I hopped on the train with our backpacks full of snacks and set off on the hour-long ride.
Usually on the metro there are people selling sweets, freestyle rapping, or simply asking for money, but on this ride I saw two older men get on the train. One had a guitar strapped to his back, and the other carried what looked like a small guitar, something like a ukulele, but with six strings. They began strumming together, singing Sobreviviendo by La Beriso. Their voices blended beautifully, and they were so musically gifted that I couldn’t take my eyes off their hands as they switched so quickly between notes and chords. It had been a while since I’d seen a performance of that level, so it definitely brought a smile to my face.
When we arrived in Limache, we hadn’t originally planned to get off the metro. Originally, we were just going to see it from the metro and ride back, but I’m so glad we decided to explore. My host mom was right: it wasn’t like Viña del Mar, but it also wasn’t rural in any means. The streets were quiet, with old buildings, little shops, and cafés. Instead of big brands, we saw family businesses and street vendors, which gave the town a relaxed, welcoming feel. It was still very packed with people, shops, and houses, but it was less influenced by global measures. As we walked toward the town center, we saw a marching band of about 30 students practicing, with people stopping to watch and dance along. The plaza was full of tents selling handmade goods, especially crochet pieces. I had such a nice conversation with an older woman who proudly told me all about the sweaters she makes. As we said goodbye, a younger boy came up and asked if we spoke English. Then he pulled out his guitar and played the one song he said he knew in English, while saying the only 2 full sentences he knew in English: “Whatever bro” and “What the —-”. It was such a funny and unexpected interaction, one that I would never have experienced in Viña.
The last couple weeks, I have been trying to get more involved with the community, and practice with more native speakers. I can officially say I have completed that goal! I have started volunteering at a local school in Vina assisting in teaching English. When I first walked into the massive public school and met the English teaching director, I was so nervous I no joke forgot how to say “I am” Spanish. The first couple days were really nerve wracking and scary, but it’s putting yourself out there that will allow you to truly get better. I have to create a presentation to introduce myself to a bunch of 10 year olds for my first class in a couple of days, and I have no idea what they would find cool or interesting, so wish me luck with that. I have been in a little bit of a rut this past week, which has tanked all Spanish retention I have gained, so lets hope that I gain it back before I head into this class. Chileans naturally speak at lightning speed, and I bet a classroom full of kids are somehow going to speak even faster. But nonetheless, I am still really excited!
As the temperature is dropping in the US, it’s been rising here. The average everyday is only between 65-70, but the sun is so strong here that it feels more like 80, which makes exploring around Valparaiso a little more taxing, but it has also opened up the beaches. Viña del Mar and Valparaiso are set on the coast, so I can literally walk 15 minutes and be on the beach. A couple times a week, after class, I take my journal and the book in Spanish I have been working on and sit on the sand. I’ve never been a beach person before, but I have slowly been learning to love it.
It’s been slow these past 2 weeks, but I have another 2 trips planned for the month, so I will have a lot of adventures to talk about in the next post.
Thanks for checking out my blog!
Until next time
-Gabrielle
In-Country Post #6
“What do you mean I have less than 2 months left?” I said to my friend as I saw that the date was October 14th, only 60 days away from when I will be back on a plane again. It is absolutely insane how the days are sneaking away from me like that because I am not thinking in the long term, I am thinking in short increments defined by when my next trip is.
Recently, I took my first solo trip to Pucón in Chile, which is known for its killer hiking trails and its water sports activities. As much as I love living in the city, I have been dying for a good hike, so I was so excited to come to Pucón to check out the mountains and volcano that surrounds it. I learned in my research that you can hike the volcano, but I decided against that because I wasn’t going to risk my life hiking up a volcano on a casual weekend trip. Instead, I ended up going on 2 ½ less life threatening hikes, both with incredible views, and taking some much needed alone time in a cabin in the woods.
Going on this trip was a very big step for me, because it was my first time navigating Chile truly by myself. Being a woman, I didn’t think solo traveling was something I could do, especially in South America. I have never really had the chance to meet any female solo travelers my age until I got to this program. Gradually as the weeks passed, I saw more and more of my peers taking solo weekend trips to explore, one of them being Pucón.
I am a frequent hiker in the States. Every Sunday I grab my muddy shoes and my headphones and head into the woods for 2-3 hours to decompress. My mom hates it. She has a heart attack anytime I tell her that I am going for a solo hike, and she makes sure to lecture me about how not safe it is every time. But, hiking is something that I love to do, and I am not going to let the potential of danger take that away from me. That is naive of me to say, I know, but it’s a risk I am willing to take. That being said, I didn’t tell my mom I was taking this trip until a couple days before I left. I knew she would try to talk me out of it, and I knew she would be successful at the time. I was really nervous leading up to this trip, more nervous than when I was back in July flying to my program. Now that the trip is done, and I am able to reflect, I think that nervousness was an unconscious manifestation of the harmful stereotypes that are instilled in us about South America and the Global South in general. I’ve hiked alone in the U.S. countless times without thinking twice about it, yet the idea of doing something similar abroad felt suddenly reckless. In reality I felt a lot safer in Pucon than I do in Baltimore, or even DC.
I left right after my Friday class to take an overnight bus to arrive early Saturday morning. I almost missed that bus, but it wasn’t even my fault because there were like 6 different terminal stations right next to each other. How was I supposed to know which one to go to? Anyways, I didn’t sleep for more than an hour on that bus, and when I got to Pucón it was raining, but it all turned out fine because I sat in this cafe to kill time and had a delicious chocolate caliente. Over the next three days I went for 3 different hikes and ended up kayaking in Lake Villiaracia. I took the book I’ve been reading in Spanish just about everywhere and would sit down and read at every half decent view I came across. Monday night, I took the overnight bus back to Viña Del Mar, ran home, took a shower, then went to 5 hours of classes with about 4 hours of broken sleep. I would not recommend that part.
These past two weeks have been full of firsts for me, my first solo trip, my first overnight bus, my first time seeing a volcano in person, and my first professional soccer game in Valparaíso. It was Chile vs. Mexico in the U-20 league. One of my international friends who went to the game with me is from Mexico, so we were all excited to experience sports in a foreign country together. It did not disappoint! The game itself was pretty mid, but the crowd and their energy made everything worth it, and I learned a couple cheers in Spanish. Chile got crushed by Mexico, which was a little embarrassing, but secretly, I was rooting for Mexico.
Next entry will talk about my time in Cusco, Peru and Machu Picchu. Thank you as always for reading and remember you are capable and can do hard things.
Gabrielle
In-Country Post #7
Hello Readers!
I can safely say that these have been the best two weeks of my life. When it was mid-August, and I was sitting in my room with my friend Paige planning this trip, it seemed so far away, unreachable almost, but it became real once I realized the next day I would hop on a plane to Peru to experience one of my life dreams: to see Machu Picchu.
We all had those weird obsessions when we were kids, right? Mine was Machu Picchu. I first learned about the ancient Incan ruin in my 6th-grade history class, and it quickly became part of my personality. My obsession is a little more hidden now, but in those cheesy ice-breakers, whenever someone asks, “What is the one place you want to go in the world?” my answer has always been Machu Picchu.
We started our six-day trip in Cusco, Peru, where the altitude is over 12,000 feet. I had heard horror stories about altitude sickness, but I figured I’d be fine. WRONG. Breathing felt like trying to suck air through a straw, and I was genuinely scared I might pass out just walking. Safe to say I got humbled. Luckily, the castle-like buildings and the jaw-dropping views of Saqsaywaman kept me distracted. Though “climbing almost to my death” might be a slight exaggeration, it sure felt that way at the time. The next morning, my body decided it was time to wake up ridiculously early, so I went for an extra-long walk around Cusco. Stumbling through quiet streets without the thousands of tourists allowed me to truly take in its beauty. The next day, we had a tour where we explored different towns in the Sacred Valley and admired ancient architecture on our way to Ollantaytambo, where we were staying next. I saw some really fascinating places! For example, Moray—these concentric rings in the ground that the Incas used to determine the perfect temperature and irrigation system for growing potatoes—and the largest salt mines in Peru. It was incredible to witness, but I have mixed feelings about the tour.
I felt very lucky to experience Quechua culture firsthand, and I truly believe the best way to learn about a culture is by seeing it up close. At the same time, I think there is a certain level of respect that should be maintained and consent should be considered. At the end of the tour in Chinchero, as we were walking back to the van, we saw a group of about twenty local people performing a religious ceremony in traditional clothing, clearly intended for their community. Some people on our tour stopped and began taking photos as if the ceremony were a spectacle, which made me feel uncomfortable and raised questions about the ethics of tourism in sacred cultural spaces. In our last stop at Ollantaytambo at the Sun Temple, we learned about the history of the unfinished building and marveled at the precision of the Inca stonework, which fit together perfectly without any glue. As I was at the top of this mountain, looking at carvings engraved in the stone, I wondered: how could this truly get any better?
When I first saw Machu Picchu, I did tear up a bit. Not only was it everything I hoped for and more, but it was also a representation of all the hard work that got me there. As I weaved in and out of the stone buildings that have been there for hundreds and hundreds of years, all I could think about was how grateful I was. Extraordinary is the only word that I can use to describe it.
Once we successfully made our way through the main complex, I took a moment to climb to one of the higher vantage points and kept going until I reached the entrance to Huchu’y Picchu Mountain. The steps up the mountain were no joke on a cliffside. Even though I am deathly afraid of heights, and I did slip a couple of times, I kept climbing one step at a time. One step for the Gabrielle who worked her butt off in high school to get a scholarship to financially make college possible. One step for the Gabrielle who said yes to every job and barely spent a dime in the past year. One step for the Gabrielle who decided not to drop her Spanish class freshman year, even though she hated it. One step for the Gabrielle who prioritized her physical and mental health over perfection and external expectations, and one step for the Gabrielle on July 27th, who did the scariest thing of her life and got on a plane to Chile. I did make it to the top of that mountain, huffing, puffing, and terrified, but I knew the true mountain had been climbed over the past years with persistence, strength, and every choice that had brought me to that moment.
Until next time,
Gabrielle
In-Country Post #8
Hello everyone, welcome back.
It’s definitely been an interesting past two weeks…
Long story short, I got my phone stolen… *audience gasps*
It literally got snatched out of my hands as I was crossing the street by a guy on a motorcycle. I was debating not talking about this but think it’s important to also show the things in study abroad that don’t always go right. It’s not always glamorous, but the lessons you learn from the good and the bad are so valuable.
I can truly say it was like a movie scene. Picture this: I had just hung up a virtual confirmation meeting for my job next semester, and I pulled up Spotify. I looked up to see a motorcyclist coming a bit too close. That’s normal though, because sometimes they stop a bit too close for comfort, so I didn’t think anything of it. One second, I’m pressing the Glee soundtrack for the rest of the walk home, and the next second, this guy is snatching my phone out of my hands, Rachel Berry playing in my AirPods. When it comes to fight or flight, I am a flight person, so what do I do… I of course start running after the motorcycle, spewing all the curse words I know in Spanish and English. I chased him for about a block when I realized that when he grabbed my phone, the magnetic wallet that I have on the back of my case fell off, so I started running the opposite way to make sure that it didn’t get taken too. Thankfully that was still there!
As I am grabbing my magnetic wallet, two older Chilean women come up to me and start asking me what happened and if they could call someone for me. I have an emergency contact sheet in my backpack for this purpose alone, but in a moment like that I just couldn’t think. I literally forgot all Spanish and English when these ladies were talking to me. The only thing I could think of was the rehearsed speech I practiced before coming here.
“Estoy una estudiante de intercambio de los Estados Unidos y no sé mucho español” (I am an exchange student from the USA, and I don’t know a lot of Spanish).
Which, at this point in my program, isn’t true, but it was the only thing I could think of at the moment, which makes it even funnier. So while I’m trying to explain what happened, this older man walks up to me and asks if I speak English. I say yes, totally assuming he’s about to switch to English too. Instead, he immediately starts launching into what I think was a prayer in Spanish. Like full speed, rapid fire holy spirit energy directly at me. I just stood there, nodding respectfully, trying to focus on my breaths while he was saying that my phone didn’t matter. Only in a movie dude.
Anyways, the sweet and amazing ladies drive me home, and I text my friend (shout-out to WhatsApp) on my computer and she comes over. The rest of the night wasn’t too fun, BUT this experience forced me to figure out how to buy a phone in Spanish. I brought my friend along with me the next day to BackOnline, or an Apple phone shop here in Viña del Mar. I was very surprised by how much I was able to hold my own. I had a full conversation about storage, specs, colors, and compatibility with the workers all by myself. That is something I would not have been able to do 3 months ago.
I have learned a lot from these past couple of days. First, don’t speak English in the street with your phone in your hand. Even if it is the “safe” part of the city and it’s light out. Second, sometimes things happen for a reason. This whole event forced me to put a pause on a very work-heavy past couple of weeks. Third, Chileans are actually so sweet and kind. I can never thank the two Chilean women who helped me get home, and even the old man who blessed me in the middle of hyperventilating. Lastly, I’m realizing that I’m far more resilient than I give myself credit for. When everything went sideways, I was able to figure out what to do by myself in a foreign country and in another language.
I did get humbled a couple days ago, but honestly I still love this city with all my heart and I can’t believe I only have 29 days left! See you next time, and remember, you are stronger than you think.
See you next time
Elle <3
In-Country Post #9
These past two weeks can really only be summarized in one word: surreal.
I knew the semester was ending in theory. I knew it when I had my last weekly fro-yo run with my friends, when I took my grammar exam (my worst nemesis), and when I attended the graduation ceremony and said goodbye to some of my favorite professors ever. But, for some reason, it never processed until the morning of my final class, the day after the celebration ceremony. I decided to walk from my house to the university along the beach. It was almost a three-hour walk, but it gave me the space and time to really process the fact that I am leaving the home I have spent the last four months building. There are a lot of things that I have missed in the US, like consistent hot showers and my car, but these four months have been so, so alive with people and places that became part of me, even if only for a little while.
So, you might be asking: “If you ended classes last week, what are you doing these last three weeks?” The answer to that is: I am throwing the rest of my money away exploring Latin America because who knows the next time I will be able to travel like this. I am backpacking, starting in Patagonia, Chile, then heading to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, then Santiago, Chile, and lastly Buenos Aires in Argentina before heading back to Viña del Mar for about three days. Patagonia and Brazil I am traveling with friends, but the rest of it I am exploring by myself!
I have just finished the Patagonia leg of the trip: 8 days of boat tours, the bluest water you have ever seen, and a surprising amount of calafate, a native berry to Patagonia. We saw everything from penguins on a small island off the coast of Puerto Natales to massive glaciers in the middle of Torres del Paine. We have seen waterfalls and mountains, llamas, and birds with red eyes. We have taken 4-hour bumpy bus rides where I couldn’t do anything but stare out the window at the beauty in front of me. We have hiked, ran, walked, and wandered through landscapes so unreal they felt borrowed from another world. I can safely say I will never see anything like this again, but I was so glad to experience it.
I want to talk about one day in particular on this trip: Thanksgiving Day. This was the first holiday that I spent away from home, and it felt strange and sad at first, but it was one of the best Thanksgivings I have ever experienced (don’t tell my mom). Most of our morning was filled with another boat tour where we saw the glaciers. My friends Zoe and Paige and I had a goal that every tour we would leave with a new friend. 
The boat had docked at this restaurant in the middle of nowhere to have lunch. We had already chatted it up with the Mexican family that sat across from us on the boat, but we were separated from them at lunch. Instead, we sat with a Chilean couple and a Costa Rican couple. I can say with confidence that it was the best interaction I’ve had with native Spanish speakers all semester. Not only could I contribute, respond, and understand the conversation, but they went out of their way to include us without dumbing down the Spanish. It felt amazing, familial, and warm. I remember walking back to the boat and thinking, “This is it. This is what I’ve been trying so hard for.”
That night after the tour, Paige, Zoe and I made our own thanksgiving meal, which surprisingly turned out really good. It was filled with guessing measurements, laughs and an entire jug of milk spilled on the ground. Even with the chaos, it felt perfect. Just three friends, a very questionable dinner, and a holiday we made our own. As much as I miss my family, I wouldn’t have traded this day for anything. It may not have been a traditional Thanksgiving, but it was exactly the one I needed.
In-Country Post #10
Hello everyone, welcome back.
It’s been another very full and eventful couple of weeks, and once again, I somehow managed to pack multiple countries into a very short amount of time. At this point, I’m just accepting that this is my life now, but I love it so much
First stop: Brazil. I met up with two of my friends there, and wow, Rio de Janeiro is exactly as chaotic, beautiful, and overwhelming as everyone says it is. Of course, we went straight to the infamous Copacabana Beach. It really is stunning, but I don’t think I could go more than five minutes without someone asking me to buy something. Sunglasses, drinks, bracelets, towels, you name it. Everything was super cheap in Brazil, but no, I didn’t want the rinky-dink whistle that says Rio de Janeiro on it. One of the funniest parts of Brazil was that a lot of people thought I was Brazilian. I don’t know if it was the confidence, the tan, or pure delusion on their part, but the second they started speaking Portuguese to me, it was game over. I truly thought that my English and Spanish skills could get me through, but man, was I wrong. I never thought I would say this, but I was actually relieved to go back to a Spanish-speaking country afterward. At least with Spanish, I can sort of survive. With Portuguese, there is no hope for me. 
While in Rio, we did all the must-see things. We went to the famous Selarón stairs, which somehow look even cooler in real life, and of course, we visited the infamous Christ the Redeemer. Seeing it in person really does put into perspective how massive it is, and the view of the city from up there is unreal. Brazil was loud, crowded, colorful, and exhausting. I don’t think it was for me, but I’m really glad I got to experience it.
After Brazil, I headed back to Santiago for a couple of days to use the stable internet to complete some interviews for internships. While I was there, I took some time to visit the Bellas Artes Museum in between interviews. It was a nice, calm reset after the intensity of traveling, and honestly, my first interview didn’t go the way I wanted it to, so this stunning museum helped me ground myself to ace the next one.
Then came my solo trip to Buenos Aires, which might have been my favorite part of this whole journey. There is something about solo traveling that I just enjoy much, and now that airports are like a second home, I will be doing them more. My Airbnb itself was straight out of a movie. It was a vintage-looking room with a balcony, and I could have stared out over the street for hours. Speaking of movies, I walked into the filming of a Netflix series called Gordon, based on the story of Aníbal Gordon. At first, I thought it was a vintage car show, but then I saw a massive camera and caution tape. I spent three days just walking around the city, taking in the European-style architecture and letting myself wander with no real plan. I absolutely loved the Ecopark, the Rose Garden, and I even went to a tango show, which was incredible.
One thing I will say, though, is that I was not the biggest fan of the Argentine accent. It’s very different from Chilean Spanish, and there were definitely moments where people would say the simplest thing, and I had no idea what they said.
I never thought this program would end, but here I am with only a couple of days left, terrified to go home. I am excited to see everyone, but I have truly loved this version of my life I have created. I have just started to feel comfortable, and now I have to leave. It scares me that I will likely never see this place again, and this will be the last time I will have an opportunity like this for a while.
That’s it for now,
Elle