Lake Humantay is a naturally turquoise lake in Peru.

Author: Shaylee Luedders | Majors: International & Global Studies, History | Semester: Summer 2023

“¡Mis hijas!” was the first thing my host mom, Salomé, said to Chloe, a fellow Arkansan, and I when we stepped out of the car outside her apartment in Cusco. My daughters. Unloading my suitcase from the back of the car, I was paralyzed by the realization that I was expected to respond to her kind sentiment in a foreign language, and that I would not be understood if I switched to English. Having just completed something like 16 hours of flights and layovers, conjugations and formalities completely escaped me. I suddenly felt very small, dwarfed by the enormous Andes mountains that towered behind the apartment. Graciously barreling through our silence, Salomé showed us up the stairs and welcomed us inside. Walking in, I was struck by the modest size of the apartment and the unfamiliar decor, which consisted of several religious paintings and a small trio of cartoon Santa Clauses hanging from the ceiling.

Soon after settling in, we were instructed in the customs of a Peruvian apartment: don’t flush toilet paper (nunca, nunca, she’d said), don’t drink from the tap, don’t expect running water after 10pm, and do not touch the metal part of the shower knob while it’s running (it shocks you, as I quickly learned). A hundred little daily habits that I had to relearn, all while speaking a language I was not fluent in—it seemed an impossible and wildly daunting task, at the time. I remember I hardly slept that night for the incessant barking of stray dogs and the noise of a busy road just feet from the wall-sized window in my room.

As it turns out, a giant exterior window lets in a lot of sound, but it also cast my room in golden light every morning, and it’s not that hard to remember not to touch the shower knob that shocks you. Those golden mornings started with breakfast at 7:15, often consisting of palta (avocado, or guacamole) con pan (with bread), a yogurt drink, and tea. We then walked 15 minutes to the International Studies Abroad campus for class at 8, always pointing out the stray dogs dozing in the morning sun on our way.

Our classes operated on something we knew as Peru time, which meant that everything would probably happen around five to ten minutes after its scheduled time—a startling difference from class here in Arkansas. I took two classes: “Advanced Spanish: Grammar and Composition” and “Survey of Latin American Literature: Crónicas through Romanticismo,” which contributed 6 total credits to my Spanish minor. Both classes were taught exclusively in Spanish by Kris, a native Cusqueñan who had us call her by her first name. There were four students total, meaning that class was much more informal and discussion-based than a typical class at the U of A. The grammar class didn’t necessarily introduce me to new grammatical concepts, but it did grant me the opportunity to ask niche questions about Spanish to someone who had been speaking it her entire life. The literature class, on the other hand, offered a wealth of new information. The history and literature we studied in this class added a few of the pieces that were missing from my understanding of the history of the Americas, and it showed me the stories Latin American people told about themselves and their history, as well as the falsehoods that laid in the stories had been told about them. More than contributing credits to my degree, these classes helped me improve my skills in Spanish and gave me a cultural foundation for the language.

I chose this program primarily because I wanted to improve my Spanish skills. I knew that fewer people would speak English in Peru than somewhere like Spain, and that that would challenge me to speak Spanish every day. After about a week in Peru, speaking to strangers in Spanish was no longer a source of anxiety, as I was constantly pushed to do so. Another reason I selected this program was because of my existing interest in indigenous populations in Latin America. Cusco was once a very prominent Incan city and the remnants of that great civilization, from precise Incan stonework to overgrown Incan terraces, can be seen everywhere, intertwined with the Catholic colonial legacy. June happens to be Cusco month, and we were treated to a series of celebrations and parades that demonstrated this intertwining of cultures.

The excursions were undoubtedly an enormous part of what made this trip so special. We traversed up a mountain for an hour and a half to reach Lake Humantay, a naturally turquoise lake backed by a glacier-capped mountain. We hiked to Rainbow Mountain a few weeks later, which is a mountain streaked with vibrant colors caused by the minerals in the soil. We got on packed vans at four in the morning and endured altitude sickness for these trips, but they were incredibly rewarding and worth the effort. We also took a trip to Machu Picchu and stayed the night in the small tourist city of Aguas Calientes, where we enjoyed reliable hot water for the first time in weeks. Machu Picchu itself was unbelievably gorgeous, surrounded on all sides by imposing mountains and lofty clouds—it was easy to imagine why it’s one of the wonders of the world.

I would absolutely recommend this experience to other students. Peru is a beautifully unique place full of welcoming and generous people, and the ISA program allowed me to create memories and relationships that will last my entire life. For students planning on studying abroad, I especially recommend trying to foster a relationship with your host family. Not only did our long dinner table conversations improve my Spanish skills, but Chloe and I developed a strong relationship with our host parents and I found it incredibly difficult to leave them at the end of my program. While abroad, I also recommend prioritizing taking care of yourself. Simply existing in a foreign country takes effort, and it is easy to start feeling frustrated or burnt out due to the culture differences. Don’t worry about going out every night, and take some alone time for yourself. It’s also important to keep in mind that people are fully capable of adjusting to unfamiliar situations, and that it just takes time; my first sleepless night filled me with fear for the days to come, but it didn’t take too long to adjust to the noise of the city. Finally, expect to get sick. I got a parasite my second week in Peru and was bed-ridden for about five days—a terrible experience, but not something to let cast a pall on the rest of the trip. I found ways to make up for the experiences I had missed, and it doesn’t stand out as a particularly notable part of my trip at this point. Studying abroad was challenging but so rewarding, and I recommend that anyone with any interest take the leap and do it.