March 30th
Alot has changed since June, but some things stayed the same. Changes: volunteering and a sense of freedom I’ve never known. I’m on my own, doing what I want—teaching English, perfecting my Spanish, and dancing. The dancing started as a party thing.
After dinner one night, I showed the girls volunteering with me a few moves, and that impromptu lesson turned into nightly sessions. By our second month in Mexico, we moved to the street.
One of the girls dropped a cap on the ground, and by the end of the set it overflowed with bills and coins. We split the money six ways. It wasn’t much at first, but the crowds grew, and so did our earnings.
The tradition followed us to Chile, then Colombia, and now Argentina. Something else unexpected—our coordinator, Marta, turned out to be a licensed therapist.
One evening, after a rough call with my father, talking to her slipped into a therapy session. I told her about my parents, about Asher, about nearly everything that’s shaped me these past few years.
When we finished, I felt lighter. Calmer. She refused to charge me, but she’s helped me so much I already know I’ll continue therapy back in the States—and I won’t let her keep helping me for free.
My father still insists I’m wasting time with all this volunteering. The only thing he ever asks about is my college acceptance email. I haven’t gotten it yet, but something tells me it’s coming soon.