For my last spring break ever (eek!), I traveled to the beautiful country of Peru with an international marketing class through TCU's Neeley School of Business. Eighteen of my peers and two of my professors and I ventured through four towns in nine days and saw incredible sights that took my breath away and renewed within me a sense of gratitude and awe at the beautiful world that we live in.
For the past few months, I’ve felt like I was missing something – I just wasn’t sure what
it was. But now I know that this trip gave me exactly what I missing: refreshed
eyes, a new way to look at the world, an awakened passion, and a big dose of healthy
perspective on my life and humanity in general.
Overall, Peru is not a wealthy
country. This fact was glaringly evident through all of our travels in the
mountains. The rural villages we passed were filled with dilapidated houses
that looked abandoned and ready to fall over with the slightest tremor, but
were still inhabited by (often large) families. Even in the big cities, most of
the buildings were in disrepair and looked worn. Rusted and dented cars were a
common sight on the roads – I think I saw only one “expensive” car my whole
time in Peru – a Mercedes – and it was on our last day, as we entered the
airport to board our flight back to the United States. Buses and cars were filled
beyond capacity with people sitting uncomfortably on laps and in trunks. On the
streets, beggars were a common sight, and children that looked as young as five
or six peddled their modest wares of bubblegum or hard candies as well as they
could to passing tourists. Stray, ragged-looking dogs wandered through the
streets, intermingling with people. Most of the roads we drove on were made of
cobblestone or old packed dirt, and were often bumpy and full of potholes.
But despite the obvious poverty
surrounding us, the general feeling of the Peruvian people was one of joy and
contentment. They didn’t have much, but it didn’t matter. Many of the dirty
children running around the dirt roads of rural towns shrieked joyously,
smiling and having the time of their lives. Laughter rang through the streets
as people talked and joked with their peers. All of my interactions with
Peruvian adults were full of smiles and genuine kindness, even though I was a
glaring outsider and there was a sizable language barrier. Every Peruvian that
I talked to was incredibly gracious and offered me a refreshing glance at the
innate kindness that I know all humanity is capable of.
One of my most memorable
observations in Peru was the blatant contrast between modern society and
traditional culture. On the streets of Cusco, women in traditional skirts and hats carried their babies bundled on their backs in beautiful hand-woven blankets among the hustle and bustle of people passing by with headphones in their ears, listening to music on their smartphones. The Peruvians are proudly unashamed of their culture, and up to half of the populations in some of the cities we stayed in still maintained the Incan language of Quechua. In the rural towns, traditional homes made of adobe clay were nestled next to convenience stores adorned with neon lights and "Free Wi-Fi" signs.
My experience with Peruvian Wi-Fi was inconsistent and
unreliable, but I found the break from a constant technological connection
incredibly refreshing and very welcome. I had been trying for weeks to “unplug
and disconnect,” but had found it incredibly difficult because of the constant
temptation in the States. In Peru, I had no choice. Instead of staring into my
phone, I had a chance to make genuine connections with all of the people on the
trip, and it rejuvenated my soul in a way that I haven’t felt in a long time. I
took hundreds of photos, but I also took a moment to be present in the moment
and enjoy the view from my own eyes – not just through the screen of my iPhone
or through the viewfinder of my camera. Bus rides through the countryside were
long and sometimes arduous, but were always aesthetically enjoyable. It was
only in the moments that I felt too tired to keep my eyes open or that I was
too busy laughing and talking with my peers that I didn’t make the most of soaking
up the natural beauty passing by the windows.
Back in the US, I feel unbelievably
lucky with all that I have. Things that I took for granted before – consistent
access to clean water, safely maintained roads, completed construction, and
more – are now invaluable luxuries that I appreciate beyond compare. In the
past few months, money has been a big concern for me as I approach graduation.
I worried about finding a job, keeping a job, and making enough money at a job.
I wanted to be happy, and having enough money was a big factor in what I
thought would make me happy. I had money, but I worried about getting more
money to maintain the lifestyle that I was so used to. I wanted to be able to
afford “nice” (but not necessarily the “nicest”) things, but my Peruvian
experience reaffirmed the fact that it’s not about the tangible things in your life – it’s about the
people and the experiences. I spent a fair amount of money on my trip, but the
experiences and the lessons I have learned from Peru’s history, people, and
culture are invaluable – there is absolutely no way to quantify the value of
what I have taken away from this trip in my heart, my mind, and my soul.
Here's to you, Peru - thank you for opening my eyes, renewing my perspective on the world, and refreshing my joie de vivre at absolutely the best possible time. Te adoro y yo volvere.
xx
ola
