Reflection #4: 06/17

Kindness

I have learned that receiving acts of kindness is a kindness in itself. I’ve always loved giving aid but hated receiving it. Now I have learned to both give and receive, and have become better because of it. Every single day here, I am blown away by the kindness that is displayed by all those around me. From the students to the professors to the sisters to friends to strangers, there is a consideration and care for others that permeates every environment here.

Let’s start in the school. The students are all so incredibly welcoming. They share their mate, their food, and their stories. I have more drawings and letters than I can count, and have taken more selfies and photos than ever before. One student in particular stood out. Memi, a senior here, loves to sing and play guitar. During a conversation, she mentioned that she would be performing at a concert, and I expressed interest in attending. It was more of a passing remark than anything, as I didn’t know whether I’d be allowed to go to the bar where she would be performing. But Memi reached out. She got permission from the sisters and invited me to come see her perform. Immediately upon arrival, I was enveloped in hugs from her entire family, from her sisters to her parents to her abuelos to her aunt and uncle, who now live in the United States. They bought me food, found me a good seat, and included me in every conversation. Memi’s friends and boyfriend asked me all sorts of questions and loved seeing photos and hearing music from my country. Once the concert began, I was included by more than just her family. The emcee gave me a shoutout. He later came to ask me all sorts of questions about America. Then, when everyone was dancing traditional folklore, Memi’s sister grabbed my hand and brought me on stage to dance. This was all in front of maybe 200 people, and it was all incredibly fun.

The sisters’ kindness is constant. Buying me treats and ensuring I have tried all the Argentine staples, introducing me to their friends, and checking in on me constantly are only the beginning. A couple of weeks ago, they took me out to dinner downtown. On the way, we passed a feria, and a gift I knew my boyfriend would like caught my eye. I was completely prepared to pay for it, with my credit card ready, but the sisters stepped in front of me and paid for it themselves. At dinner that night, and truly every day, they shower me with affection. They praise my faith in God, my willingness to help, and the kindness that I display. They are proud of me in the way a mother or grandmother is proud of her daughter, and the confidence they have in me is overwhelming. Their kindness cannot be repaid, but they would never ask for repayment anyway. They are simply kind women, and the only thing they want from me is an acceptance of their kindness.

I have managed to make some friends of my own age here. Upon arrival, I received a text from Juan, a friend I made in CL from Buenos Aires. He let me know that there was an entire CL community here in Rosario and—if it was okay with me—he would love to introduce me. I was bored and interested in meeting locals, so I agreed. Within a week, I was sitting at the Catholic University in Rosario with seven young adults, talking about sports, religion, and life. I only met with them a few times—to read Giussani, hang out, and eat downtown—but every time they were incredibly welcoming, interested, and gracious.

There were also many random interactions with strangers that left me smiling. At Mass on Sunday, a random elderly woman came up and clasped both my hands. Staring into my eyes with the kindest smile I had ever seen, she told me that I reminded her of the Virgin Mary and that I was beautiful and good. When I sprained my ankle and needed to buy a brace, the woman at the store was incredibly patient, using Google Translate and gestures to help me get what I needed. When an Uber driver accidentally made a wrong turn, he kept showing me Google Maps and the route he would take to correct our path, lest I become concerned and think he had poor intentions. Random women sweeping their front paths gave me warm smiles, professors at the school hugged me and helped me find my classroom, and people were generally gracious with my poor Spanish. It has all been very wholesome.

One professor in particular stands out for her hospitality. Jorjelina, a literature teacher here, loves to practice her English. She was incredibly welcoming from our first meeting and promised to have me over for a traditional carne asado meal. She fulfilled her promise on a recent Sunday, and I spent a joyful four hours in her home, meeting her husband, son, and two dogs, eating delicious food, and going through her old photo albums. She embraced me wholeheartedly and still texts me to ask about my day and tell me about hers. Another amazing professor here is Professor Cucui, a teacher of English. Apart from being incredibly helpful in translating, she has gone out of her way to welcome me. She made me a beautiful gift bag full of traditional Argentinan treats, and a coaster of Mafalda, an iconic cartoon here. All the staff here, from the professors to the head of the school Analia, are welcoming and considerate, making me feel at home.

I didn’t know much about Argentina before coming. To be perfectly honest, I had only heard that it was a “third-world country with first-world tastes.” But I have learned a great deal about this country, its history, and its economy. More than that, though, I have learned about its people: the kindness they display, the patriotism they possess, and the genuine love they have for their country. The people I have met here are genuinely happy, fulfilled by a community-centered culture where everyone has a place.

I’m nearing the end of my time here, and every day I learn something new. But I know I will leave with fond memories, lessons learned, and a constant reminder to be kind—and to accept the kindness others offer.