In September, our Bolivian cohort visited Tiquipaya’s local trash and recycling plant, Dirección de Gestión Integral de Residuos Sólidos (GIRS), located just across the street from my homestay. At the beginning of our charla (talk), we discussed the purpose of the plant, how it serves the community, and the struggles the workers face. However, our bubble of blissful ignorance surrounding the state of our environment burst as soon we followed our guide Jhoselin outside. Before us stood a heaping mountain of trash, hungry dogs, and a thick stench that clung to our clothes.

Written in both Spanish and English, Bridge Year Costa Rica participant, Zane Mills VanWicklen, reflects on navigating the unknown during the initial days of the program, and how a stone changed his perspective on how to build connections and embrace differences.

Take a look at some of the special moments from the Senegal group's first month!

This year, I’ve worked with Aajeevika Bureau, an NGO focused on addressing the issues faced by migrants and their families. I sat down with my boss, Sanjay Chittora, director of the Skill Training unit of Aajeevika Bureau, which provides workers with opportunities to upgrade their skills and increase their earnings. We discussed the history of the organization, his work within it, and his outlook on the NGO sector more broadly.

It is communities like these which remind us not to forget about humanity when we look to numbers and textbooks to solve our problems, to logic because there is no place to contain our emotions. Bridge Year serves as a reminder of what it means to be human—that beyond a culture of productivity and achievement, what really sustains us are the values of love, community, and humanity living within everything around us. I think that it would surprise us to find how many of the answers to the issues which seem so beyond us are actually written in the interactions of our every day.

There is so much I could say about my community placement, Green Wave. Green Wave is a social enterprise selling jewelry that trains and hires women from the nearby women’s shelter called Maison Rose. I could talk for hours about the mission, my boss, or the community that has become another family to me over the course of my Bridge Year, but to keep it short, I'll just share what a typical day looked like for me.

Roughly translating to “people of the house”, waa keur is the Wolof phrase for family. Both a very important concept in Senegalese society and a strongly emphasized aspect of the Bridge Year program, I knew becoming a member of my new homestay family would be a defining aspect of my time in Senegal. Having only the slightest idea of what the future had in store, I was thrusted into my new home in early September. Starting from day one, I began to develop a better understanding of the dynamics within the household. Over time, I made a place for myself in the complex family structure of the Sall family home and began to truly feel like a member of the family. 

I had been aware of Javanese since before departing for Indonesia, but I couldn’t have anticipated its prevalence. In our home neighborhood, Kotagede, most of the inhabitants are Jogja locals, meaning they speak Indonesian but their primary language is Javanese. The language dynamics immediately interested me, and I wanted to learn more about how locals view their two languages; which one is more comfortable, and how it feels to switch between languages, or even mix them. I was told by many that regardless of their clear fluency in both languages, it would feel awkward to speak Indonesian to other Jogja locals.

“Bapak Ino is an insurance salesman. Ibu Sri is working at the nearby kindergarten in an admin role.* Diva is a university student and Ahnaf is a student in high school. The family likes to do activities together.”

These few sentences, alongside a family photo, were all I was given before entering my homestay in September. One thing left unmentioned was their house. 

I remember sitting in the living room of our final group homestay. After hearing these short descriptions of the families, everyone’s excited thoughts quickly turned towards the houses we would be staying in. Several failed attempts to find photos of our new homes on Google Maps only made us more restless and left us to wonder.

Looking back,…

It is currently the wedding season in Cambodia! Weddings are held in months that have 30 days. Recently I went to a wedding in Doun Kaev in Takéo Province with my homestay family. My mom’s nephew was getting married. Here are some pictures to take you along for the wedding journey while sharing a bit more information about Cambodian wedding traditions.

It's exciting to think about where a bridge might take you, but an equally important part is where you started. I often find myself looking back to be eluded by mist. Growing up outside any culture and being mixed, it’s difficult to explain where I come from. I know there are the pine-covered mountains of Colorado, but behind that?

I work at an NGO called RISE Foundation (Yayasan Remaja Indonesia), whose core mission is to promote and develop the health, wellness, and advocacy of Indonesian youth. Since beginning my internship at the end of September, I’ve learned so much from my mentors and fellow interns. Everyone at RISE is passionate about their work, and the office has a friendly air of camaraderie that many American work spaces that I’ve experienced lack. One of my favorite traditions is the lunches when someone surprises the rest of the office with food to share. While talking and laughing with my co-workers and friends, I’ve tried delicious noodles, chicken sate (grilled chicken skewers with a flavorful sauce), and pai susu (pie made out of custard and condensed milk that is popular all around Indonesia…

It becomes hard to look up when all that is around you is a sea of anti-Blackness.  Racist incidents just become a part of your daily life, something that you expect to happen and are more surprised when it doesn’t.  Whether it’s malicious, disgusted stares, your coworkers grabbing your hair and telling you how interesting it is, your host cousin telling you that Black people deserve to get paid less, or a plethora of other examples, the sting of racism becomes something that you have to endure every day.  Sure-you might learn the context, the history, why things are the way that they are yet none of that helps to change how you feel. The racism makes you crazy. It starts to make you question whether they are right, whether you really are less than, because it is all…

Narges Anzali highlights words and phrases she frequently hears exchanged by her homestay family in Costa Rica to illustrate the everyday relationships, rhythms, emotions, and dynamics she has experienced with them so far.

Sipi: A way of saying ‘si.’ Your older host sister frequently uses it, and when asked, she explains that it sounds more friendly, less severe, than the common ‘si.’

To listen and to understand — are they distinct? Or are they intrinsically linked, two sides of the same coin? In English, they’re unmistakably separate; listening happens at the ears, understanding in the mind. But in Khmer, oftentimes, ស្តាប់ [sdap] (to listen) and យល់ [yol] (to understand) are used interchangeably; saying, for example, “I listen to Khmer” means “I understand Khmer.” Bridge Year Cambodia student Rishi Subramanian shares some of his poetic and reflective pieces of writing centered on the themes of listening and understanding.

In October, after the initial three weeks living with homestays in Tiquipaya, the Bolivia group had just begun to adapt to living with new families and spending time away from the group. In that time, they have created strong relationships with their host-families, but they have each had vastly different experiences. Follow along for a day in the life of a Bridge Year Bolivia student through brief vignettes from each student's experience with their homestay, highlighting moments and interactions that have felt very important to them.

Pura vida. It's a phrase you hear everywhere in Costa Rica. It's a greeting between friends. It's a response to "How are you?" It's an expression of gratitude. It's a way of life. It's only two words, yet it means so much. This is a reflection on how pura vida as a concept has been central to Yao's experience at his community placement, Centro Morpho.

Alessandra Faccone of Bridge Year Senegal highlights the Senegalese ataya tea ritual through a poem as well as instructions for making this tea.

As the reality that I will eventually leave Udaipur is becoming more and more real with each passing day, I’ve been thinking a lot about the relationships I’ve formed with various people throughout my time here--particularly, the relationship with my homestay mother, Chanda Ji. Obviously, Chanda Ji will not follow me to the US, and our conversations will probably become less frequent, but I can carry the spirit of our talks and the qualities of Chanda Ji that I admire and hope to embody in my life. So, I decided to ask Chanda Ji a series of somewhat random and unrelated questions in an attempt to capture a bit of her essence.

Each group member has written about personal experiences they’ve had with food and how it has assisted them in reflecting on their time in Jogja, and in Indonesia at large. Nivan writes about his appreciation for his homestay family’s restaurant. Izi writes about her memorable interactions with community members fostered by her love of jahe (a hot ginger drink). Katriona focuses on how the pasar (traditional food market) teaches her about community and bonding with her homestay family. Lilia reflects on how learning to like spicy Indonesian meals pushes her to challenge herself more. Calvin talks about using food as an avenue to deliberately seek out a legitimate Indonesian experience. Clara explains how food brings her closer to her homestay family. Finally, Mell talks about finding…