It's 51 degrees and cloudy in DeKalb. Students completed their mass exodus from this campus in the corn fields yesterday, and Lincoln Hall is quiet. This is the beginning of summer.
Four thousand miles away, nestled in the Altiplano (or high planes) of the Andes mountains in the landlocked state of Bolivia lies Cochabamba, a city of just over half a million people. For Bolivians, it is almost the beginning of winter.
A month from today, I'll already be in my third day of intensive Spanish classes at the Maryknoll Mission Center. I have lots of expectations for my six week adventure, but at the same time, have no idea what to expect. While I know much about Bolivian history, culture, and adult education programs thanks to my research for Dr. Jeria's final project, I know nothing about the family with whom I'll be staying, what my daily commute to the Center will look like, or how my stomach will adapt to local cuisine. For now, I can anticipate feeling uncomfortable, out of place and unable to communicate, probably a little lonely, and sad that no one will understand my sassy sarcasm. And honestly, I can't wait. This is my adventure. Bring it on, Bolivia.
