ecuador is on my mind

Dear Ginger,

This letter should not even be written in English. Not for you.

Here I am sitting thousands of miles away from you in my cozy American house, while you are probably running around barefoot as you play on the dusty back roads of your Ecuadorian neighborhood. I remember that place well; the image of it is glued in my memory like a photo pasted into a family album. How could I forget it after having spent two solid weeks of my life there with you? Something I carry with me everyday is a resonant reminder of that adventure. It is something of very little monetary value: I spent barely a dollar on it. Yet the slightest idea of losing it breaks my heart. To lose it would be to lose a piece of Ecuador, a piece of something that brings back a flood of memories at the mere sight of it.

It is a bracelet.

Made simply of colored string that spells out the name of your precious Latin American country, it graces my left wrist and has done so for the past eight months. I never take it off. I bought it thinking it would serve as a proper souvenir; nothing more. Instead it became a tangible symbol of everything I did, everyone I met, every aspect in Ecuador that I never want to forget. I will not let myself forget, Ginger.Whenever I remember my bracelet, I go back to Ecuador. I go back to the concrete floor of the church we slept on for so many nights; to the open field where we played countless games of soccer; to the Sunday school where I stumbled through leading a lesson for you and dozens of your friends. I go back to the night I left you in your hometown, and you asked me if we could be sisters forever. Thank goodness I knew some Spanish, because you went on to ask me when I was coming back. I had to tell you I did not know. I still don’t, Ginger. All I know is that looking at this bracelet takes me back to Ecuador in my mind. It may be only a memory I am returning to, but at least we know that means I am never going to forget you.

This bracelet feels like a part of my wrist now; I guess eight months of wearing it could only cause me to become completely accustomed to its presence. Is that not how the memories are to me now? The bracelet feels like a part of me. In the same way, those experiences I remember by the bracelet are experiences that have become a vital part of growing me into who I am today. I carry this bracelet as a constant reminder of a country where I served, I taught, I learned, I sweated, I cried, I grew. It is where I met a little girl whose sweetly caring and content nature touched me deeply. You are that little girl, and I promise I will always remember you. Just as this bracelet stays on my wrist, your memory will stay in my heart.