Boarding the plane to Buenos Aires, I was wide-eyed and naïve, elevated yet petrified. I hadn't been acquainted with the culture, and I knew I'd be a visible minority there. Moreover, it wasn't my first choice for study abroad (given my circumstances at the time, it was my only choice), and my handle of Spanish was laughable. The fears I tallied overshadowed my excitement to immerse myself in what I would soon discover is an enchanting country with an irresistible culture and remarkable history.
On the long flight over, I met the most endearing Argentine family: that experience gave me a new lease on life —dread was replaced by a gleaming hope. Upon disembarking the plane, far out from my comfort zone, I firmly decided to embrace the rare chance to study—to live—abroad. And live I did: whether it was roaming the streets of the historic Recoleta neighborhood where I boarded, socializing with and admiring the work of creatives in Palermo, or studying Castellano with my ebullient Argentine tutor (whom I sought out upon arrival), I lived. I danced. I ate and I drank. I fell in love.
I will never forget my experience studying abroad in el Cono del Sur; and I will carry those moments with me for the rest of my life.