“Estás contenta aqui?’ 

Are you happy here? 

I turned my attention to the nearing fog gracefully enveloping the distant mountains, the sheep, unbothered, grazing their lush green grass, locals on motorcycles taking joy rides down the wide-open roads and finally back to my language partner sitting across the table. Somehow these conversations seemed easier in a different language. There existed an invisible boundary between us, the limits defined by the meager collection of Spanish words floating around my mind. 

I was studying Spanish in the Colombian region of Antioquia, living on the outskirts of the small village of San Carlos. As part of my language course I had a daily conversation class with a local from the town. Each morning, at a table overlooking the school’s expansive estate, we engaged in conversations that defied the myriad realities disconnecting us – the painful memory of the Colombian Civil War, the labor shortage in the U.S., barriers to higher education, places we’d love to visit, languages we’d love to speak, our hopes, our dreams, our longing desires. With words flying rapidly between us, we imbued the stillness of the early morning with abundant discussion. 

Learning a language is, in general, a noisy endeavor. When I set out to learn Spanish, my life became flooded by a sea of unfamiliar sounds- the reggaeton music that poured through the lively ‘discotecas’, the incoherent shouts of locals watching football in the square and the circles of conversation that permeated the town’s dimly lit cafe bar. All at once I was forced to truly listen to the world, to surrender an intense attentiveness to the words that surrounded me. 

What I remember most about Colombia, however, is the silence. In the memories of the time I spent there there is no sound, only visions of myself laughing uproariously by a fire, swimming through waterfalls, lying by the river and taking long walks through the quiet countryside. The noise of my previous months of traveling quickly dissipated upon my arrival. In the time prior to my stay in San Carlos, I had wandered aimlessly through foreign countries attempting to fill an unknown gap within myself and my life. In this rush of exhausting chaos, I did find moments of extraordinary happiness, but what underlay them all was an undeniable impermanence. The more I was filled up with experiences, the deeper I was cut into by a grinding loneliness.

It was in Colombia that the cries of my internal demons began to soften. I could no longer hear anything screaming inside of me, wishing desperately for somewhere else and something better. My world ceased to exist outside of San Carlos. I stopped listening to overwhelming news podcasts. I began leaving my phone at home. I took few photos. The thoughts that passed through my mind were bounded by the small group of students at the school, the colorful tuk-tuks that lined the streets of the town, the local grocery shop with the impressive array of unusual fruits and the micheladas we enjoyed after a long day of hiking. 

“Estoy muy contenta”, I replied to the question at hand. This was the truth. There came a day when I could remember nowhere but the stretch of land between me and the mountains, and understood deeply that this was happiness. 

Spanish Adventure gave me a home in Colombia and welcomed me in as though I were family. If you are looking for an authentic Colombian experience and an amazing Spanish language course, please look no further! You can read about their packages here.