The best memory of the week

I had an amazing opportunity to go on assignment to the Andes this Wednesday so that I could cover a story about a group of students here for work. It was an early morning after a fun night of hanging out with the rest of the online writing team at a local restaurant.

Despite dog fights going on in the street outside my house, and cats yowling like they were wolves all night, at 6 a.m. sharp my alarm goes off and it's time to get up. Having had the worst day ever the day before, this was not something that I wanted to do. But it's exactly what I needed. Funny how that works huh?

The view from Pat's house 

Since I hadn't expected to go to the mountains at all while I was here, at least while it was still "winter," I pulled on layer after layer of clothes: 2 jeans, 1 sweat pant, a cami, a tank top, a short sleeve shirt, a jean jacket, a coat I borrowed from my host mom, and my hat. I felt like the abominable snowman, but it's cold enough in the city (40-50F lately), I didn't know what to expect from the mountains.

I took the bus to a random street in Las Condes, the barrio where I'm living, and then I walked to this address at 7:00 a.m. since Pat, my contact person for this story, told me I had to be there by 8 or she'd leave. Not knowing how long it would take, especially with my poor luck with the transportation system this past week, I wasn't going to risk it. I showed up earlier than expected but she seemed to be okay with that.

After about a half hour talking with her and hanging out in her apartment, which had a gorgeous view of the city (see above picture). We hopped in the car, picked up her friend Janet, and started the hour and a half trip to this ski place.

After going up very winding and narrow roads in a jerky manner (the cars here are all stick shifts) I finally arrived at La Parva, albeit a little light-headed, though I eventually adjusted to the altitude. Not too long after that a group of volunteers showed up from the International Association of Chile and The Friends of Helen Keller with lunch. They're all ex-pats so it was cool to spend the day a ski place with people from Holland, Germany, The US, and Britain.

Not too long after that the students showed up.

You'd think it was a typical class trip, with the way the kids were laughing, talking and playing in the snow but this one was different. These students from El Colegio de Hellen Keller are blind and they were here for their fourth and final day of learning to ski.

Yes, you read that right.

Ski instructor Fernanda helps Eric with his skis
Copyright: Avery Cropp 

So how do blind children ski? Well it depends on how advanced they are with their skills. Some have their hands held by their instructor, some hold on to poles, and some can go by themselves while only responding to verbal commands to go left or go right.

AMAZING!

Francisca plays in the snow
Copyright: Avery Cropp 

They were so happy. They had snowball fights, made snow angels, tasted snow, built snowmen, petted the ski center dog, all before they were even starting their lessons. My favorite was a little girl named Francisca, she was adorable. So chatty, funny, and very talented when it comes to singing. She opted for snowshoes because she is unable to go skiing. And she was also wise beyond her years.

It was a good reminder of why I do this, when the week before, I admit rather shamefully, that I was wondering

"Why the hell did I even come here?" 
I can tell this story. That's why I've come here.  

I've had a rough start here. It's been lonely. Being in a foreign country not knowing a single soul other than your host mom, and being a bit shy around new people at first, makes the experience rather difficult.  But my rough start is nothing compared to what these inspiring children have dealt with and overcome throughout their lifetime. I re-learned to not take things for granted that day.

If you've come this far thanks for sticking with me.  Please check out my story, if you haven't already:

Overcoming obstacles at Chile's La Parva ski center

Until next time,
Avery Cropp