Lugging all of our luggage throughout the airports of Minneapolis, we were able to smoothly get through customs with only dear Matthew’s luxurious lotion having to be left behind. As we got to out gate now we started our first test-the waiting game. Taking pictures galore, this would soon be, unfortunately for me, a test of what was to come for the rest of the trip.

As we landed in Atlanta we met a new member of our large dynamic family. Amelia, Hank, the Dean of Education’s daughter, awaited us as we came through the doors to the airport. Knowing that she would be anticipating us I was keenly looking around fervently for a face that I may perhaps connect too. Instantly I found one. A female around the same height as myself with a comfy males sweater wrapped around her small frame with a large “mom” bag to match. I allowed myself to hon in on her for just a couple seconds but failed to receive a confirming look from her in return. Releasing my gaze sadly, we gathered up as a group. Looking at the monitors for which gate for the next direction we needed to head in, the same girl began to walk towards us. As she walked towards the dean, I knew this was her, Amelia, and she would become a great friend.

One thing I need to note before leaving Atlanta was not only the back hugger, which of course I tried, relieving my pain for those sweet couple minuets while talking to the wonderfully helpful and very interesting life of a Ghana born, highly traveled student working for techy Brookstore, but another store that we came across. Shining with those letters that I grew so used to seeing on my way through Kryzsko in Winona Commons was the smoothie store, Freshens. Alex could not resist reuniting with her beloved Freshens and so she quickly scored a yummy smoothie for the road.

The next flight was nothing less than spectacular. Sickness overwhelming a child’s sleep and parents precious minutes as well, snoring eroding the ear drums of others and movies that did not please the eyes or mind. However, the flight was not the reason we were here it was for the children and our courageous alumni who came over those so many years earlier. For me personally, the flight was just another place to sleep. One of my best abilities being able to sleep on pretty much any surface. But let’s get back to real business.

Flying into BA, Buenos Aires, this would be my second time coming to the country. I was extremely fortunate enough to have been given the opportunity by my family to visit my partner and the country during my spring break just a couple months earlier. However, I knew but had no idea, that this time would be completely different.

The city was just as diverse and lively as when I had left it. We saw the “Pink Palace”and got to explore the wonderfully ornamental and stimulating offerings of the Sunday Market. The street, which was 100 blocks long it seemed, was filled with street performers, yes we saw the real Johnny Depp I swear, to Mate cups and leather purses and shoes of all variety.

While eyes speedily traveled from side to side of the street trying not to miss any of the market’s spectacles, we were all unaware of the quick moving our bodies would be doing soon. After recharging with coffee and sweets, the group became dispersed.  Trying to regain our group, half waited along a curb while the other was lost in the hundreds of other faces. Challenging our psychological skills we tried to think in their shoes. They were not at the cafe we had went to earlier and not around the streets near it either. The only place we could think of was the square were the Casa Rosada was at.

With a small group made up of Alicia, Amelia, Alicia’s friend, Morgan and myself, we booked it in the direction of the Casa Rosada, in the Plaza da Mayo.  As our  feet tried to move as fast as our minds, we turned the corner and saw our lovely remaining members simply feeding the birds. As the adults released their nervous tensions, we were able to laugh off our first scary moment.

Next up on the agenda was the last portion of our traveling, destination: San Juan