Personal Narrative: My Trip To Nicaragua

I was in my freshman year the time that I traveled to Managua, Nicaragua. What attracted my attention was the culture and language barrier, a seemingly unbreakable facade that held incredible stories and experiences behind its imposing wall. The thought that I could hear these experiences and learn from them gave me a reason to connect with these boys and pour out my heart to them. After a week of constant twenty-four interaction, the wall crumbled and I had an experience I will never forget

As my school prepared to go on this trip, I was not planning to go on the trip. However, after persistent asking by the group leader, I had decided to go. 5 months later, after countless hours of preparing skits, messages, and songs; as well as refining my spotty Spanish, we were ready to go and the full cost had

A world of poverty, hurt; things I had never truly experienced before. Things that before this trip were a figment of my imagination, things that I could not comprehend existed. Things that most Americans take for granted. Things such as what we will eat for our next meal, or the fact that we "have" to go to school tomorrow, things that these kids would give anything for. Little by little I felt my perceived preconception of how much I knew about the world crumbling before my eyes, and felt myself becoming humbled at the same time. I was used to feeling talented; receiving countless awards in academics as well as athletics, thinking the world was my playground and I could contort it exactly how I wanted it. I lived my life through the motions, molding my comfort zone to my specific sectors of my mind that I thought I knew everything about, and my confidence bred off it. This trip caused me to struggle with the realization that maybe I didn’t know everything. Maybe it wasn’t how much knowledge I had that defined me, it’s how I used that knowledge and what I used it