Stories

As I have spent time reflecting on my experience in Peru, it has been overwhelming to organize my thoughts and feelings. Our experiences with Universidad Antonio Ruiz de Montoya (UARM) and different NGOs allowed us to see Peru in a way that very few have the chance to see. While we were also able to experience some of the more “touristic” pieces of Lima and beyond, I am grateful for the opportunity to have explored beyond the gilded, conventionally “beautiful” aspects of a country with such a deep history rooted in migration and internal violence. Nevertheless, in my struggle to piece together my thoughts, emotions, and reactions into a cohesive reflection, I have found one common theme in all of my experiences. Often I found myself feeling “out of place” on our trip, whether it be for my physical appearance, my lack of Spanish knowledge, or my lack of familiarity with national and international migration. Yet my ability to listen with curiosity and desire to digest and understand the experiences of those around me allowed me to become more familiar with challenges that I have never seen personally. Through the generosity of individuals who were willing to share intimately of their experiences, their struggles, their triumphs, and their fears, I was able to “borrow” the eyes of others, each day becoming more privy to the worlds of migration and political violence that I have never experienced personally.

Our time at Fundación Fútbol Más sticks out as a highlight of our trip, as my interactions with the children emphasized the importance of child-like innocence and unbridled curiosity. When we first arrived, I was fearful my lack of speaking skills would inhibit my ability to interact with the kids and to ask questions which adequately portrayed my deep desire to know more about them. These fears were quickly dissolved by the enthusiasm and curiosity with which the children spoke to me. Unafraid to ask “bold” or conventionally “impolite” questions, I realized immediately that my curiosity for the kids around me was matched (or even overshadowed) by their curiosity for me. From questions about my blue eyes and curly hair, to questions about my favorite futbolistas, the kids were so transparent with their unfamiliarity about the world outside of their own homes. Additionally, they were more than pleased to speak with me (in my broken Spanish), eager to see what words I could teach them, and which words they could teach me. Their warmth opened my eyes, allowing me to ask questions about their homes, their families, and their experiences in a way which I did not expect. They shared openly about their friends, their siblings, and how much they loved their community. Their openness softened the fear I had of asking the “wrong” question, or asking “dumb” questions based on my lack of knowledge of their community. I quickly realized how generous they were, willing to tell me exactly what their lives looked like, despite my lack of familiarity with their community, their language, or their country. As I have looked back on the Monday afternoon we spent with Fútbol Más, I realize I will likely never live in circumstances which reflect their own. Yet, the transparent curiosity which drove our conversations allowed me to see the world through their eyes, even if only in glimpses, allowing me to better understand how the pueblos jovenes play a role in Peruvian society, and the beauty which exists among the clouded, often overlooked hillside communities.

The other conversation which has stood out to me in my reflection has been the conversation our group had at dinner about immigration, particularly the experiences of students from Eritrea. While each of them had shared pieces of their upbringing and how their Eritrean roots influence their lives, it was not until our dinnertime conversation that I was able to better understand the impact which migration has had on each of their lives. As someone who was raised in a family several generations removed from those who initially immigrated to the US, I was afraid my curiosity about immigration may be misinterpreted as ignorance or arrogance. Nevertheless, I realized the relationships we had been building in our time together allowed the earnest nature of my questions to be recognized. I was so grateful for their willingness to share with me the vulnerability about what it looks like to be raised outside of Eritrea, the danger they and their parents have faced throughout their immigration, and the desires they each have to know more about the country itself. It was kind for the group to validate my curiosity, expressing the development of a community and a space which embraces their experiences and fosters a safe space of curiosity and understanding.

In the time I have spent reflecting on this trip, the idea of “borrowing” the eyes of those around me, allowing me to learn from the experience of others, has continuously been on my mind. While the idea itself, learning from the stories of friends and new acquaintances, would not have initially struck me as profound, I now recognize the depth and vulnerability required in order for individuals to share with such generosity. If my time in Peru has taught me anything, it is a recognition of the vitality of “borrowing” perspectives in my desire to learn more about the world around me. While I will never be able to experience many of the circumstances which have been shared with me, I am relieved to know that my genuine curiosity and tender care for relationships lays the groundwork for strong connections and mutual understanding. My time in Peru has enlivened my global curiosity more than ever, and from this motivated my desire to educate myself on immigration and the struggles individuals face all over the world. I want to honor and respect the daring choices and sacrifices individuals make to preserve their freedom and ability to speak freely. In a world with so much information at my fingertips, I realize more than ever before the importance of individual experiences, of trusted relationships, and the power of personal storytelling. It is these stories which define the histories of those around me, developing great respect in me for the people I encounter. It is also from these stories that I can more adequately develop a balanced understanding of the world in which we live, far beyond the bounds of my own experiences.