Christmas, Is That You?

December 26^th, 2019

8:34 P.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

Merry Christmas from the southern hemisphere!

This holiday season was definitely unusual, but it was a good unusual; a new experience to say the least.

You don’t even have to be a close friend of mine to know that I absolutely love cold weather. Spend five minutes with me during spring (not even summer) and I will be complaining about how hot it is. Well, what a shock to my system to leave the United States during summer and come to Uruguay when summer was just beginning, resulting in a very sunny holiday season.

The last few months of the year are usually my favorite for a few reasons:

1.     Cold weather resumes and insects go back to hell where they belong. (I’ve had quite the “experience” with cockroaches here.)

2.     School usually begins, and I absolutely love school.

3.     There’s at least 1 holiday in each month. (October has Halloween, November has my birthday and Thanksgiving, and December has Christmas and New Years.) It really is the best time of the year!

This year I was in a position where almost none of these things happened, or at least they happened in ways unfamiliar to me.

I’ve learned that cockroaches are a regular occurrence in summer, and I’ve been told to “relax” many times, to which I respond, “Yes, but I don’t think you understand just HOW terrified I am of any bug, let alone a large, crunchy, indestructible, flying satanic creature sent from the depths of hell. (Have I made my point?)

Cockroaches aside, I didn’t start school this year, and Halloween, comparatively, isn’t much of a thing here, as it’s only become popular in the last few years due to the influence of Halloween movies from the United States.

Even though Halloween was a bust, I had one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had in my whole life. Everyone here made it so unbelievably special, and I am so grateful for the community that cares so much about me. I attempted to cook a nice vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner for my friends here, but if you’re not watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade or the Annual Dog Show afterwards, followed by every Thanksgiving episode of Friends, is it even Thanksgiving?

Needless to say, I walked into the grocery store the first week of December and saw that they had put up Christmas decorations and were starting to sell fake Christmas trees. My first thought was, “Isn’t it a little early for Christmas?”, not realizing that it was, in fact, not early in the slightest.

While the United States probably goes a little overboard for Christmas, I actually found myself missing the hustle and bustle of the season, not to mention the snow! Plus, I never got to watch my favorite Christmas movie of all time, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. Very important.

It didn’t really feel like Christmas until I went to a Christmas concert at the Central Methodist Church of Montevideo where I got to listen to wonderful music sung by the Gay Men’s Choir of Montevideo.

Live Noche de Paz

 (If you have Facebook, here’s a link to “Noche de Paz” [which is Silent Night, but strangely was sung in German?], and it was absolutely INCREDIBLE.)

Leading up to the big day, which in Uruguay is the 24^th, not the 25^th, I spent my days at the beach, just a few blocks from my house.

For Nochebuena, or Christmas Eve, Ivette (a fellow GMF) and I were invited to the home of Pablo and Adriana, the most wonderful and caring people, whom I like to think of as my Uruguayan parents. We spent the evening with a lovely dinner, played board games, and at midnight we went outside to watch the fireworks.

I really like this tradition. We just stayed outside for a little bit watching the sky, giving out hugs, and wishing one another, “Feliz Navidad!” After, we came inside to open presents and listen to music, and by the time we ended it was very early in the morning! 

When I woke up on the 25^th (after quite the late night), I facetimed my family as they continued our tradition at home opening presents on Christmas morning. Even though I’m thousands of miles away, it actually didn’t feel that different. I felt like I was there with them. Christmas music was playing in the background, my dad was attempting to save the wrapping paper so he could use it for next year like he does every year, and my mom was temporarily getting up every 10 minutes to check the Christmas dinner she probably spent days preparing for. (Also, let it be known a Christmas miracle occurred, and Tobi, our dog, recognized me through the phone. Yes, I think I was more excited than him.)

The afternoon was spent at Ruth and Diego’s house with tea and cake. Their house has become a bit of a refuge for me during these past few months. Diego is from Uruguay and Ruth is from England, so both of them are fluent in English and Spanish. Not to mention that Ruth is an incredible cook/baker! Whenever I walk in the door, I yell, “I’m home!” and then Ruth usually puts me to work grating the carrots, a job she’s convinced I’ll get tired of by the time I leave. 

Every year they also have a choir come to sing at their house for Christmas.

And she has a new kitten!

In the evening, I went to the house of my German friends where we cooked dinner, listened to music, and talked for the rest of the evening! 

(And apparently we were having a lot of fun because I only got this photo of my friend Kari and I waiting for the bus in the rain!)

Even though it was a strange holiday season, and it didn’t really feel as “Christmas-y” as it normally does, I am so incredibly blessed to be in this beautiful country and be surrounded by people that love me like family.

Understanding the Undertones

November 15^th, 2019

1:43 A.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

Connection. What a fascinating subject! We're all biologically hardwired to want it, but how we obtain it can be a bit of a challenge. 

It’s something I’ve thought a lot about while learning another language, especially since I’m the type of person that loves to be surrounded by people. And not only do I like to be surrounded, but I connect with people by talking about really intricate, complex topics. I’m not really a fan of small talk. I’ve been told multiple times in one form or another, “Why do you always bring the conversation so high? Why does it have to be so complicated all the time?” (My simple answer to this is because life is complicated and I find more joy in the complexities of it all.) But one of the things I’ve been asking almost every person I’ve met here who’s bilingual is this question:

"How do you connect with someone in a language that's not your native tongue?"

Logically, I know it’s possible, since I have plenty of friends that speak with me in their second, or in some cases, their third language. However, it’s SO difficult for me to understand this concept of “real connection”.  Yes, of course we can converse back and forth, but so much emotion and connotation is put into each word I speak while using English. When speaking Spanish, I’m merely going through the motions. With time, of course I will progress, but right now it’s something I find very perplexing.

For the past few weeks this has been on my mind constantly. Some of the friends I’ve made in Montevideo are volunteers that are living here from Germany, so of course, we speak in English because they’re all fluent. I keep telling myself to stop being surprised, but there are so many moments when either I might say a joke, or they’ll come up with one on their own, but it’s pure language humor, and I have to take 3 seconds in my brain to be in complete awe that they understand. To be clear, this has nothing to do with their intelligence but more to do with my own inability to do this in another language.

One would think that my abnormal love for grammar, reading, and writing would be immensely helpful, but most days the one consistent thought is, “Because I don’t understand everything, I understand nothing.” Is this totally irrational? Abso-freaking-lutely. Literally I can process, but it’s the undertones that I’m yearning for.

Why did you phrase that sentence that way?

Are you being passive aggressive?

What does that tone paired with that sentence say about how you’re feeling?

Should I be passive aggressive?

What does this hand gesture mean with that sentence?

It can be isolating at times when you literally understand what someone is saying but get lost in the sentiment.

Which is why today was special.

Yes, there are still many things I find fascinating about being fluent in another language, but today was the first day when I felt the comfort of speaking in English when I was actually conversing in Spanish.

One of my jobs is working at Espacio VAR, a multifunctional space that hosts various activities each month. This October and November we’ve been doing Sign Language workshops, and this afternoon before class began, I was able to sit and talk with one of my co-workers, Fede, about a topic that I continuously find daunting: my career.

It wasn’t until halfway through the conversation when Fede said a word I didn’t understand that I realized how engaged I was. I had already pulled out my “mind map notebook” of color coded facts about things I knew to be true about myself, things I knew could change, things I knew I wanted out of life, etc. and was explaining each point and its sub-points when I felt a sense of normalcy in our conversation. Was I at complete peace? No, of course not; I was translating everything I wanted to say the entire time. But I appreciate how easy it was to translate each sentence. Now, whether it was grammatically correct is another thing, but I was able to express how I felt with ease and could connect with the emotions Fede was describing in his own life and compare it to mine.

I wish the conversation had been so profound that I could now say with certainty what my future plans will be, but unfortunately that will have to be for another day. Today, I’m just satisfied with this small victory and thankful for the chances I'm getting to have such wonderful friends from all around the globe. 

Letting My Shoulders Down

September 30^th, 2019

2:01 P.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

I’ve been living in Uruguay for exactly one month, and there are so many incredible things I could talk about, but the one I want to share is something I’m super passionate about: diversity. And more specifically, diversity in gender and sexuality.

In the United States, pride month is celebrated in June, but in Uruguay, it’s celebrated in September and called, “el mes de la diversidad”, and what an incredible time to arrive! I have been so impressed by the progressiveness of Montevideo, and it has made my first month here so easy. I don’t feel like I have to diminish my voice or my opinion.

Let me begin by saying this: I understand I have an immense amount of privilege. I’m white, able-bodied, middle-class, *cisgendered, heterosexual, and have had higher education. I also want to acknowledge that there are individuals without these identities that might feel differently than me, and possibly, they might not have the same opinion. It’s difficult to compare the two, but for me, I find the discussion around the LGBTQIA+ community in Uruguay to be better than in the United States. (Or maybe I should just stick to talking about Nebraska!) 

I also want to acknowledge that this topic is extremely complex, and these are thoughts from my own experience in the short time I've spent in this community. 

Greta Thunberg has been in the news a lot recently, and she did an interview with Trevor Noah (whom I absolutely adore) in which she was asked about the difference in attitude toward climate change in the United States versus Sweden. Her reply was that in the United States, it’s a topic that people think is debatable, whereas in Sweden, it’s just known as a fact. Firstly, this made me laugh (because when you’re facing a crisis and people don’t believe it, what else can you do?), but secondly because I could relate it to my own experience when talking about gender and sexuality. I’m going to continue this point, but I’m going to go off on a tangent first. (I promise it’s related, so hang tight.)

I’ve been in Uruguay for a month. A question I often get asked is, “Are you homesick?”

And I always say, “Aside from trying to grasp the concept of Christmas in summer, no.”

Why?

Let me put it this way. Reader, I want you to imagine a time when you've gone on vacation, or maybe when you were younger and would stay at a friend’s house. It was fun, right? It was awesome. There were new things to do, you were surrounded by people you enjoyed, and it was a great way to spend your time.

Now I want you to remember when you finally went home. Back to your own bed, your own space, your own routine, etc. It’s not like you didn’t have fun on your trip, because you did, but there’s a certain comfort about being in a space that is yours. Your shoulders physically relax, you can let them down, and you don’t feel any pressure. 

  

I’m don’t feel homesick because living in Nebraska, it felt like I couldn’t say what I wanted, at least not fully. Of course I enjoyed the people I was with, the things I was doing, and there were certain places where I could share my full opinions. But Uruguay is like taking off the pressure. I don't have to worry about people opposing my opinions (which can be a good thing, but there's a time and a place and that's for a different blog post). In my experience conversing with people in Montevideo, when discussing the LGBTQIA+ community, it’s not a debate; it’s like Greta said, it’s just a fact, and I feel like I can let my shoulders down.

When I was a freshman in college, I was sitting at lunch with another student. I’m not exactly sure how the topic came up, but it did, and I was told I was going to hell because I didn’t believe homosexuality was a sin. After lunch, I went back to my dorm room, and I cried. But I didn’t cry because I was told I was going to hell, because heck, I’m probably driving that bus. But I cried because I didn’t understand how someone could be so heartless about another human being. (Another moment to recognize my privilege: I realize I am a *cisgender, heterosexual, white woman that didn’t have to experience this particular type of discrimination until my 18^th year of living while many before me have and many after will experience this and much worse.)

The point I’m trying to make is that my experience has been nothing but positive in Montevideo concerning the topic of gender and sexuality. It's been undebatable, as it should be. This is not to say that there aren’t great strides being made in Nebraska and that there isn’t opposition in Montevideo that I've just not experienced yet, but in general, it’s much easier to “let my shoulders down” here. Something that I also find particularly incredible, is that not only do the churches I’ve come across tolerate the LGBTQIA+ community, but they join in on the celebrations.

One of the most exciting things I get to do is work with the LGBTQIA+  community at my job at a Methodist affiliated high school. Because this is “el mes de la diversidad”, literally translated as “the month of diversity” but more colloquially “pride month”, I was able to help plan a dialogue with an absolutely phenomenal student. While the dialogue discussed both gender and sexuality, we focused on what it meant to be trans and live in Uruguay. This was also an awesome learning experience because I am neither trans nor Uruguayo, and he was both of those things.

 He and I planned this dialogue for the other students, and while I was super excited about it, I was also very nervous. This was my bread and butter, but I didn’t feel I had enough vocabulary in Spanish around this topic to fully contribute.

However, that was when the magic happened.

At first, I was a little disappointed that during the dialogue I couldn’t jump in and add my two cents. But then I realized this is the kind of space we have always needed. While it’s good to acknowledge the privilege we have, often it still gets in the way and is used to speak for those that don’t have as much. Rather than speaking for this student, I was forced to step down and let him step up. He was given that space to converse with his peers about living as a trans individual in Uruguay. If you want to call it a blessing in disguise, that’s exactly what it was.

Now, I would by lying if I said I understood every single word that was said during the dialogue. (My Spanish is SLOWLY getting better!) However, while planning for this dialogue (it’s easier for me to communicate one-on-one for obvious reasons), this student told me not only his ideas for the dialogue, but how he feels Uruguay is a model of sorts for the rest of Latin America.

Even though Argentina is often compared culturally to Uruguay, he expressed that as a trans individual, living there would not be as easy. Not only is it becoming easier to change an individual’s name or gender on an identification card, but it’s becoming easier for youth (over age 12) to do so. He and his parents work with different organizations that assist trans individuals, as well as their families, and they're making huge progress.

As I was listening to this student talk about his own experience (not to say that it wasn’t challenging at times), I wanted to cry again. But this time it was because I was just overwhelmed with utter bliss. To hear him talk about how Uruguay was making it easier for trans individuals to live made me ridiculously happy. The kind of happy where you can’t help but want to cry and have to take deep breaths in between wide grins.

It was beautiful. 

There's still work to do. But at least here the LGBTQIA+ community can let their shoulders down a little. 

And it’s about damn time.

Terms used that might be unfamiliar:

*cisgender = my gender identity matches the sex I was identified as having at birth


The following photos were taken at the Marcha por la Diversidad: