travel – Tessa M. Perko's Blog

Learning a Language for a Better Life in Retirement

I’ve been retired for two and a half years, and a month after I retired, I started taking Spanish lessons. I previously took French in high school and college and two years of Spanish in graduate school, but I hadn’t used either language much at all. Now, my goal is to be fluent in Spanish one day.

It turns out that taking Spanish during retirement is a great idea. It’s great for health and also enhances my social life. Here’s how.

Learning a Language Sharpens Memory

Because studying a new language involves absorbing new information and practice, it is good for retaining the brain’s memory capability. According to Carly Spence at Cambridge.org, “[language] students learn new words and grammatical constructs and spend time reviewing and building on their previous knowledge as part of the learning process. This . . . is . . . an effective brain workout and protects older learners against dementia and other degenerative neurological conditions.” My memory is just as sharp as it was thirty years ago, and I want to keep it that way, so I guess I’ll be studying Spanish for years to come.

Learning a Language Boosts Cognition

Learning a language can also make a person smarter or help her stay sharp as she ages. In The Sydney Morning Herald, Evelyn Lewin explained the positive effects of studying a new language as determined by a 2019 Italian study. The study “looked at the effects in adults aged between 59 and 79 and found that, after just four months, people learning a second language scored significantly better on two research-backed measures of brain health and acuity: global cognition (such as thinking, understanding and problem-solving) and functional connectivity.” Many elderly people take it for granted that they will lose their ability to think clearly or maintain their intelligence, but this isn’t true for people who continue to use the high-level functions of their brains such as in studying another language.

Learning a Language Makes Travel More Fun

I just traveled to France for almost a month, and everywhere I went, I had opportunities to speak French. A French friend suggested that I always greet a French person by saying Bonjour first as a polite gesture. This small habit helped me engage in many lovely conversations in which I learned about the area I was visiting and the wonderful people I was meeting. As I continued my trip, French phrases popped up in my brain from my old French classes so that I could extend my conversations in French more and more. I felt proud of my capability and had much more fun.

Learning a Language Improves Creativity

Studying a language promotes a student’s creative abilities. According to Carly Spence at Cambridge.org, “This could be the result of the thought processes involved in language learning. These include translation, language switching and disciplined study, along with a willingness to learn and adapt.” Learning a language takes courage and humility, which are two characteristics of a creative person as well. A language learner believes that it is possible to learn to speak and understand a new language, and a creative person believes in new thought processes or ideas, so learning Spanish and being creative are truly close companions.

One of my goals is to do something creative every day since creating makes me happy. I’m a writer, but I also cook, garden, and decorate my home and yard. When I retired, I started to write a novel, and now that novel is almost ready for publication. I’ve been amazed at my creative power during the last two-and-a-half years. I believe my study of Spanish has enhanced my ability to create in other areas.

Learning a Language Leads to New Friendships

I’ve been taking Spanish classes for two-and-a-half years now, and this fall, I’ll be in Spanish 4. Each of my classes has consisted of over twenty students, most of them being retired. Often, the teacher arranges students into small groups to practice verb tenses or other tasks. When students work in groups, conversations become more trusting and students learn about what they have in common with their classmates.

I’ve made two new good friends in my classes. One is a former chemist who is married to an Indian man and has adopted two Indian children. The other woman is a former physician assistant whose husband is also studying Spanish. In-between classes, I meet with these friends at a coffee shop or for lunch to practice conversational Spanish. We share favorite restaurants, talk about our vacations, and reminisce about our childhoods.

Studying a language is not only educational and fun; it makes retirement a happier and healthier time of life.

Fabulous Fred

Some people are more memorable than others. They pop up in your mind. You visualize their wicked grin, beguiling smile, or musical voice as you recall old travels or past meetings. Recently, when I toured France with Insight Tours, I met such a man, and his name was Fred.

My fist exposure to Fred was an email he sent me before the trip started. The note contained clear details about where to meet in the hotel and what I had to do to label my luggage as part of the tour. Fred’s words were business-like and direct. He signed his name Frederique, but suggested that we call him Fred.

Fred dressed in a well-ironed red-and-purple-checked button-down shirt over a gray pair of casual trousers. His head was bald and he had a salt and pepper mustache and closely-cropped beard. It didn’t take long for this trim, conservative and snappy dresser to impress me. These are the qualities that he possessed to make him the best tour director I’ve ever had.

Clear with Directions

I came to appreciate Fred’s detailed directions, especially when he let us wander in the middle of ancient French villages and described how we could find the bus at the assigned time. He made use of landmarks such as the gothic church or the town hall. He used his arms to indicate left and right and repeated the directions as many times as we asked him. He seemed to understand that many people didn’t listen well until they realized they had to rely on themselves to find their way.

Timely

Whenever it was time to meet, Fred arrived first. He finished breakfast before us and waited for us in the lobby. He was at the bus at all the designated times, and he made sure that our luggage was picked up from our rooms and loaded into the bus timely. How? He helped the hotel bellhops gather it and transfer it outside so as not to delay our departure.

Personable

Fred turned out to be a friendly and approachable human being. Every morning, when the bus started moving toward the next destination, Fred wished us Bonjour. After we responded, he continued with Avez-vous bien dormi? Did you sleep well? When we responded negatively, as many travelers might, he taught us a more positive way to answer that question. Say oui first, and then indicate how you might sleep better next time, coached friendly Fred.

He joked about his baldness and described how he once had a mop of hair in his twenties. On Day 2, he sprained one of his fingers moving our luggage and, most unfortunately, a pigeon defecated on his head in the middle of a town square. Neither of these incidents ruined his sunny demeanor. He allowed two tour members to clean the pigeon poop off his head and shirt and continued the tour with humor.

Later in the tour, he was comfortable enough to describe his recent bout with cancer, showing that he was just another human being with human problems. Since many of the travelers were seniors, I’m sure they felt more at ease with him since many of them had suffered from medical problems themselves.

Caring and Attentive

Fred demonstrated sensitivity to all of us in many ways. He stood at the bottom of the bus steps and helped us climb safely to the ground. He also instructed the bus driver to stand at the other door and do the same. When we stepped down, he smiled at each one of us as if we were the most important person on the bus.

One of the single tour members appeared to have a memory problem and Fred always made sure she was back on the bus and physically safe. He never complained that she was forgetful or not walking as fast as the rest of us. He simply took care of her kindly.

Interesting and Informative

The tour covered the country roads of France, which means, sometimes, our bus driver would drive us over remote mountain passes, into narrow tunnels, or over roads that circled country vineyards and farmland.

We were never bored while touring these far-flung French trails since Fred provided us with detailed and stimulating lectures that described what we were seeing and what the history of the area was. For example, when we were approaching Arles, where Vincent Van Gogh lived for many years, Fred revealed that the artist painted over 300 painting in Arles, but sold only two. While we drove through the walnut groves of the Dordogne Region, Fred explained that every part of the walnut tree was valuable to the French farmer. The nuts are sold for food, the shells are used as fertilizer, and the wood is used to make furniture. After listening to Fred’s lectures, I felt a little smarter and a little more French-savvy.

Resourceful

Several times throughout our trip, Fred informed us that he and our bus driver had poured over the map and found new country roads to explore that day. He assured us that the driver was an expert driver so we were sure to enjoy the new adventure.

Another way that Fred proved his resourcefulness was when we stopped in various places and he went out of his way to improve his understanding of the area. For example, when we visited Pont du Gard, a three-storied Roman aqueduct in the Languedoc Roussillon Province, Fred climbed up the trail beside the structure to view the third level, something he had never done before.

Helpful to French Travelers

In my past visits to France, I have had negative experiences with French people. Waiters ignored me. People on the street merely walked away when I asked them a question.

Fantastic Fred provided us with a remedy for situations like this. He explained that French people learn English in school, but when tourists come up to them and ask them a question in English, they freeze, once again experiencing those dreaded English classes.

Fred recommended that we approach French people with a polite Bonjour and allow them a moment to warm up to us before launching into our English question.

I put this method into action. Whenever I entered a shop, I said Bonjour to the shop clerk. Each time, I was rewarded with warm eyes and a smile. If I wanted to use a restroom in a restaurant where I wasn’t eating, I said Bonjour to a waiter, then asked to use the restroom, and the waiter never turned me away. Fred’s method seemed to be foolproof.

Funny

Who doesn’t like a comic? On the first day of the bus tour, Fred demonstrated that he had a repertoire of jokes in his tour director cache. The first joke he told us was a parody of the French people according to the Germans.

The joke went like this. When God made France, he created the dazzling Alps to the East, the stunning and bountiful Atlantic Ocean to the West, the beautiful Mediterranean to the South, fertile farmland, prolific vineyards, and bountiful orchards, ample rain, and plentiful sunny days. No other country had been blessed with such advantages.

The Germans were upset, and they asked God why he gave France so many wonderful characteristics. They insisted that it just wasn’t fair.

Upon hearing the Germans, God became contemplative. He thought and thought and thought. Finally, to balance everything out, God made the French people.

When we heard the punchline, the bus erupted in raucous laughter. You would think that we were laughing at the French people, but Fred was quintessentially French, so his joke helped us appreciate their humanness instead of thinking poorly of them.

Here’s another joke by Fred that had to be told in English to be funny. What do you call someone who jumps into the Seine River?

Answer. In Seine.

It takes a certain personality to tell a joke well. Fred could do it because he wasn’t afraid to be self-deprecating and he was naturally good-natured.

I will remember Fred every time I travel on a tour. I’ll unconsciously look for his snappy ensemble in every hotel lobby and wistfully hope that he comes walking through the door to lead us on another well-organized, comfortable, informative, and fun adventure.

My Aussie Lesson

Photo by James Wainscoat on Unsplash

I know this post may reveal my ignorance about a major country of the world, but let’s face it. Australia is far away from most places. I’m not used to thinking about this down-under country unless their government does something incredible like it did in 1996: banning assault weapons within two weeks of a mass shooting in Port Arthur, Tasmania.

I, however, recently spent over three weeks in France with about twenty Australians, who dominated the atmosphere of our bus rides and dinner conversations with their jolly personalities and proud Australian heritage. Here is what they taught me about their country and themselves.

The Aussie Name for the U.S.

My new friends consistently referred to the United States as America. Australia is on the other side of everywhere, so maybe they had never heard of Canada, Mexico or any of the countries of Central or South America. They pronounced America with wistfulness and admiration, while, at the same time blinking their eyes, then looking briefly toward the horizon as the shadow of a smile lit up their lips. My heart swelled with pride and warmth knowing that my home still generated such positive vibes.

States

As the United States adopted the names of its 50 states, it chose both creative and unique names such as California, which originated from a Spanish romance novel, named after an island located close to Paradise.

Australia has six states with less original names. Whoever came up with the names Western Australia and South Australia either lacked imagination or ran out of time. The states Queensland, New South Wales, and Victoria, regrettably, represent a devotion to England more than they do Australia. Only the state’s name Tasmania, an island southeast of the country shows any modicum of ingenuity, named after the Dutch explorer, Abel Tasmin, who first sited the island in 1642.

Apparently, both Tasmin and Christopher Columbus thought 1642 was an excellent year for finding new lands.

Australia’s National Dessert

Apple pie? Pumpkin pie? Ice cream? I did a little research, but I couldn’t find any conclusive evidence that the United States has a national dessert. In contrast, my new Australian friends were adamant about the existence of a national Australian dessert called pavlova. This round dessert consists of a crispy meringue outside, a soft interior, and fresh fruit and whipped cream on top. The Australians eat it all summer and for special occasions.

What’s so funny about this dessert is that it was named in honor of a Russian ballerina who visited the country in the 1920’s, Anna Pavlova. I guess if you’re going to name a state after a queen of England, you can name your national dessert after a Russian ballerina.

An Aussie Kind of Domestic Terrorist

In Northern California, deer sometimes jump fences to chew off the roses on bushes, but what kind of fence could keep a hungry kangaroo out of your garden? My Aussie friends have a kangaroo problem. In their neighborhoods, kangaroos break through fences, trample flower beds, gnaw on trees, savor all kinds of fruit, and feast on flowers and shrubbery.

My image of a friendly kangaroo mommy with her baby poking out of her pocket has been shattered.

Upside-down Seasons

Because Australia is located in the Southern Hemisphere, the country’s seasons are reversed from those up north. Australia’s fall is at the same time as the northern spring. Their winter is our summer. Their spring is our fall, and their summer happens when we’re celebrating Christmas and Hannukah.

Honestly, I knew this, but I’m so surprised at how much confusion this difference caused during conversations about weather and holidays. I found myself tilting my head to the side, as if I was preparing to do a cartwheel, and blinking my eyes as I attempted to clarify the vision of Santa Claus wearing shorts and sunglasses while sliding down a cold, unused chimney.

Outgoing Personalities

All the Aussies on our tour were bold, outgoing, and confident. Not only did they make up the majority of our group in number, but they made most of the noise. I’ve never considered myself shy, but my assertiveness could not compete with these extroverted dispositions.

One 4’11” woman made up for her short stature with her bellowing voice and bravado mannerisms. According to her, marriage was a lifetime commitment, a fifth Covid vaccine had been approved, and Perth was a friendlier city than Sidney. I didn’t dare disagree with any of her opinions because her balled-up fists seemed serious.

One of the funny men who was married to, according to him, the best researcher on the bus, took a big liking to me and my husband. As we rotated seats around the bus during the tour, they were either sitting directly in front of us or directly behind us, which meant we had lots of opportunities for conversation. His name was Roger, but he referred to himself by his nickname, Candy Evergreen, given to him by a neighbor. Candy Evergreen claimed my husband as his bestie and told me to leave men business alone. I wasn’t insulted by Candy Evergreen’s kidnapping of my guy since both seemed to thoroughly enjoy this juvenile male-bonding experience.

The more I learned about Australians during my days in France, the more I appreciated the brash and fulsome Australian character, and the more I empathized with them. They were opinionated, but in the next moment, they were buying your lunch. They were loud, but they were good-natured. They were corny, but funny.

After all, when you live at the end of the planet, you’ve got to shout louder to get noticed.

Why I Like Old People

I recently came home from a vacation where I spent ten days touring Southern cities with twenty-four people over the age of sixty. I had the time of my life with these people and the following reasons explain why.

1. They’ve Endured Hardships and Healed from Them

While sitting beside my new friends in a horse carriage or at several dinners, I learned about their lives. One pretty, eighty-eight-year-old woman had raised two of her grandchildren after her daughter and son-in-law died. When she smiled, her eyes lit up like stars. Another woman, traveling alone, was married to a man who has suffered from Muscular Dystrophy for twenty years and is bedridden. A tall, handsome mustached man experienced extreme pain one day when his gout acted up during a tour of a plantation when the tour required a lot of walking. He was a sweet and endearing man, always kind to everyone. A friendly woman walked with a cane, yet she was a fascinating conversationalist. Despite having all of these trials in their lives, these individuals were traveling and living happy lives which indicates their strength of character and determination to be happy.

2. They’ve Developed Long Careers

This group of travelers represented a broad range of careers. One man, at seventy-seven-years old was still working as an ophthalmologist. A blonde-haired woman, who was married to a former president of a silicone company, was a former cooking instructor. Two women from Pennsylvania were realtors, and another was an English professor. All of the travelers had decades of experience in working and lots of stories they could tell of their working years. This made them interesting companions.

3. They Don’t Need to Impress You

No one had the need to impress anyone else. No one was critical, either. They accepted everyone, whether he or she used a cane, was shy, drank a little too much, or liked to be alone once in a while. Perhaps, because they had lived through hardships and experienced numerous relationships with many different kinds of people, they didn’t feel they had to compete with anyone else’s achievements. They had plenty of their own.

4. They Love People and Relationships

This was an exceptionally friendly group of people, perhaps because they were old enough to understand that people and relationships bring the most joy into our lives. The woman whose husband had Muscular Dystrophy made sure she dined with each and every person on the tour. During every bus ride, we chatted together about our lives. We took photographs of each other on beautiful, historic bridges. We climbed to the rooftops of Revolutionary forts together. We toasted glasses of wine, shared appetizers, discussed fish and steak, described our desserts. So even though we were on a tour to visit the South, our emphasis was experiencing the country with new people and in developing new relationships.

5. They Can Relate to Your Experiences

After working for years in a profession, it certainly is rewarding for someone else to be able to identify with your years of working with students, clients, or patients. If you spent years in human resources solving employee problems, it’s rewarding to tell someone else about your work and have them understand your accomplishments. Since there were a few teachers on the tour, they easily appreciated the hard work of teaching. The corporate attorneys and accountants could understand corporate work, and the medical professionals could share stories about special cases or patients. People with different careers could appreciate each other since long careers all require hard work, problem-solving, and endurance.

6. They Know How to Live in the Present

Old people know how short life is, and so they are better at focusing on the present moment instead of always thinking about the future. Some mornings, my travelers took a walk on the beach at Hilton Head just to watch the sunrise over the bulging, grey Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes, they put on their swimsuits and swam in the pool. They sat in the hotel courtyard on warm afternoons to enjoy the balmy weather and blooming bougainvillea. They lingered at dinner long after the dessert was served to talk with their new friends, and they asked each other to take pictures in the plantation gardens.

Old people are a lot like good novels. They have so much life to share. After spending ten days with my over-sixty-year-old travelers, I’ve come home with much more than memories of places. My life has been enriched with the strength, experience, confidence, humanity, empathy, and mindfulness of these incredible people.

Wisdom of the Trees: Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Willow

Friday was the last day of class, and Profesora Casti lead her students to Almagro, the part of the city known for its flower vendors. First, the group wandered among the flower stalls on Acuňa de Figueroa where baskets of roses filled the air with intense fragrances. Leonie bent over the bunches to breathe in their perfume, and she took turns saying their names out loud with her classmates. They chatted with the vendors who told them where they grew their flowers and how they worked from early in the morning until late at night planting seeds, hand-watering, and pruning in order to produce the most beautiful flowers.

The vendors smiled when they talked about Mother’s Day, weddings, and baptisms for which they sold the most flowers. Some vendors stayed open 24 hours a day. The best time to buy flowers—late at night or early in the morning.

Then, the class meandered to Calle Sarmiento where even more vendors had their shops. One shop was filled with tuberose and jasmine, which filled the shop and the air outside its door with heady perfume. Inside, the vendor was busy wrapping flower bouquets in cellophane paper for a woman and her two daughters.

Leonie wandered away from the group to admire the lilies of another vendor. While she was reaching out to touch a petal, a woman dressed in a green apron came out to greet her.

“Your lilies are gorgeous,” exclaimed Leonie.

“Thank you. My grandfather used to sell flowers on the streets of Buenos Aires. My father sold flowers in the old market in stall 8, and, now, I rent this shop here to continue our family tradition.”

Leonie moved under the shade of the willow tree that grew right in front of the storefront. “I love flowers,” she said.

“I love flowers, too,” replied the vendor. “I’m sure I’ll sell flowers until I’m old and frail.”

Leonie paused in thought, running the woman’s response through her mind. Forever was a long time to do just one thing. Leonie didn’t know that she would ever find something that she wanted to do for so long.

“So,” Leonie asked, “You don’t ever wish that you could do anything else?”

The woman smoothed down the front of her green apron with hands that were crusted with dirt and chapped from years of working with plants. “No, I never wish to do anything else,” she finally said. “I feel that each day in my flower shop is another day where I get to express my creativity, and doing that gives me intense joy. Besides, I know that I like to be around beautiful things, and what could be more beautiful than a shop full of flowers.”

“You seem so contented,” said Leonie.

“You see this willow tree that’s giving you shade? A willow tree symbolizes fulfilling wishes of the heart. It also symbolizes inner vision. I’m lucky to know what fulfills my life. That knowledge is my inner wisdom.”

The vendor showed Leonie around her tiny shop, identifying the names of all the flowers and inviting her to smell their fragrances. Leonie told the vendor that she was about to take a trip to search for her life’s purpose. As the woman listened to her story, her eyes glistened and a whisper of a smile set upon her lips.

Before Leonie left, she held out a yellow rose. “This rose symbolizes our new friendship,” she said. “Friends are one of the most precious treasures of your life. From now one, you and I are lifelong friends. I wish you success on your trip and hope that you find your version of life fulfillment.

That night, just before Leonie went to bed, she sat at her desk to write in her journal. I know what fulfills me, she wrote. After setting down her pen, she felt anxious. But I don’t know what fulfills me, she worried. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I don’t know what makes me happy day after day after day.

As she sat, she thought about the vendor in the green apron and how she had found fulfillment. She remembered how gently the woman had picked up each flower and described its characteristics. She had moved among her flowers with grace, touching each blossom with respect and admiration; her movements were filled with love.

Now Leonie knew. The woman had been a messenger from her own soul to teach her how to find her own purpose. Love was an integral part of finding fulfillment. When she found out what she loved, she would find her contentment.

Wisdom of the Trees: Chapter 1

Photo by DARIAN PRO on Unsplash

From ancient times, trees have symbolized physical and spiritual nourishment, transformation and liberation.

Chapter 1 – Oak

One more week and she was done. Graduated with a double major. College over. More educated than most of the people on earth.

And you know what? She wasn’t going back home, even when this class was over. Her father had paid for a round trip ticket to Buenos Aires, but she was going to cash it in and stay.

This was her chance to really be independent, to find out what her values were without her father’s advice about this job or that apartment, this guy or that outfit.

She missed her mother though, but her mother wasn’t at home anyway. When Leonie was supposed to be having the time of her life in college, her mother had contracted breast cancer. After three surgeries, six months of chemotherapy that sapped her effervescent energy, and twelve weeks of radiation that burned her skin red, the cancer came back.

Just before she passed away, Leonie and her mother had sat under the oak tree in the back yard, the shadows of its branches spreading like arms across the grass.

“I can’t lose you, Mom.” She had wept beside her mom, the shade of the giant tree darkening her tears like black pearls.

“You won’t feel the same, but you’ll never lose me. You’ll just have to learn how to live with me differently.”

Leonie had felt so confused. She stared at her mother’s face so that she could remember it—her gray-blue eyes, silky skin, a mouth that always held the hint of a smile. She stared deep into her eyes, holding on, wishing for more time.

“I’ll be with you,” said her mother. “I’ll guide you from a new place, a place you cannot see, but that is nevertheless powerful. You’ll feel me.”

Leonie clutched her mother’s hand.

“I want you to find your inner strength. Emulate this oak tree. Every time you feel weak or lost, visualize yourself as an oak tree, rising strong, spreading wide, enduring challenge and finding the sun. You won’t be alone because I’ll be beside you, breathing my love into your heart.”

“But I won’t see you. You’re my inspiration. I’ll be lost without you.”

“My love will remain here. When you can no longer physically see me, you can find other women to inspire you. Choose many, in fact. One to follow for leadership skills, another to learn the art of love, and another to learn how to live with joy. She may be one of your professors, a co-worker, a girl friend, a friend’s mother, or a woman you meet only one time in your life. Whatever you wish to be, you can find a woman to inspire you.”

“How can you be so strong? You’re dying!”

“I’m content because I know that I will continue my life in another form. My spirit is not dying. My soul will continue, and I’ll grow from its future experiences. I have many things to look forward to.”

Leonie remembered this conversation as she held her mother’s ashes six months later, secured in a pearlescent urn shaped like a heart. Leonie kissed the top of the urn before placing it in the niche at the cemetery. “Enjoy your journey, Mom,” she whispered.

Later, as she sat in the back yard next to her mother’s chair, Leonie thought she heard her mother’s voice. No, maybe it was the breeze rustling the limbs of the oak tree instead.

“My journey will be right alongside you,” said the breeze.

Staying focused on her studies was impossible after her mother’s death, but her girl friends had helped, and then Leonie decided to go overseas for a change of scenery—a much needed distraction that she needed to survive.

So now, she was in Buenos Aires and hungry. She lived in a shabby dorm room in the basement of the university and tutored students in English to make money, but it wasn’t enough.

Leonie searched through her backpack for something to eat: an empty plastic juice bottle, a paper envelope from the bocadillo she had for lunch. She poked her fingers deeper. Something waxy. She grabbed at it and pulled out an apple, a little bruised, but it was food.

The next morning, Leonie woke up with a growling stomach and the sound of traffic. Engines racing, horns blaring, and brakes squealing invaded her tiny room through the high window that wasn’t even big enough for her to crawl through. Leonie grabbed her shampoo and towel, opened the door, and paced to the single shower room.

Whew! It was empty. The water felt refreshing on her wet head, rinsing off the humidity and sweat of her body from the sweltering night.

Today, she was going to meet a friend that she had met in her Spanish class. Clarissa was a native Argentinian and Leonie wanted to ask her about traveling throughout the country.

Upstairs in the dormitory lobby, a canister of coffee stood on a table next to a large blue box of sweet pastries. Leonie poured the thick, viscous liquid into her own mug, stuck a pastry between her teeth, and whisked out the door.

Clarissa was sitting at a table in the corner of the café with her laptop open when she arrived. A cup of mate steamed to the right of her computer, Clarissa wildly typing on the keyboard.

“Hey, how’s it going?” asked Leonie, grabbing the back of the chair opposite her, scraping it across the floor, flinging her backpack over a post, and sitting down.

“Hey,” murmured Clarissa, finishing a sentence.

“You know, this Spanish class is my last college class, and I’ve got to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I feel lost without my mother, and I don’t want to go home without a plan. I don’t even know if I want to live there anymore.”

Clarissa picked up her mate, sipped it, and looked up at Leonie. “I suggest that you travel and meet as many people as possible. They’ll give you new ideas, and you’ll learn that you have endless options,” said Clarissa.

“That does sound good,” said Leonie. “How should I start?”

“Just go,” said Clarissa. “Don’t think too much. Don’t plan too much, but be ready to make your trip work each step of the way. I’m emailing my sister. She works at the Belmond Hotel, a few miles from Iguazu Falls. Maybe she can get you a free room. Iguazu Falls is one place you should go!”

“Oh, I’m so nervous about traveling by myself. Maybe I’ll just stay here,” responded Leonie.

“Oh, no you won’t,” said Clarissa. “You’re going, and that’s that.”

“We’ll see,” said Leonie. I have a whole week of classes left.”

“Yes, a whole week to build up your courage and begin your new life.”