COLUMN: Learn a language, expand your horizons
At one time in my life, I refused to be called Lukas. The name invoked images of Lucas from “Empire Records” with his black turtle neck and Karate Kid-like one-liners. In fact, I was even a Republican for my first few semesters of college. Back then, I had difficulty forming a complete sentence and had no idea what a preposition was. My life changed.
This change didn’t happen overnight. It took me about six months to begin and I am still sliding down the slippery slope of discovery. My life changed when I learned Spanish.
This may come as a bit of surprise to most of you, but my first contact with Latin America was as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I entered the Republic of Chile on Jan. 22, 2000. That first day was awesome. My backpack with all my money, my camera and personal items, like my journal, was stolen out of the back of the truck I was picked up in at the airport. Seeing that my journal was stolen, I bought a new one. My first entry was, and I quote, “This place is amazing, I should have been born here.”
I spent the next six months devoted 100 percent to learning Spanish. I was up by 6 a.m. every day and often much earlier. Yes, within six months I went from not being able to pick a word out of a conversation to being the older companion and being able to carry an in-depth conversation about theology. What I hadn’t learned was how drastic of a change would be wrought within my mind by simply learning another language.
For those of you who are bilingual, you know what I mean. Growing up speaking English afforded me the ability to know only one world. Being absorbed in it, I thought it was the way everybody saw the world. I was wrong.
I love Pablo Neruda’s poems. For those of you who are not familiar with Neruda, he is a Chilean poet who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1971. He was also a communist. In my humble opinion, obtaining the ability to understand his work is enough reason for anybody to learn Spanish. The perspective he gives about life in a world that most of us have never known is worth the effort. His poem “Las Alturas de Macchu Picchu” formed a big part of my Latin experience and has become a major goal of my trip. I hope to read his poem as I watch the sunset over the Incan temples.
It has been one year, nine months and 10 days since I left Latin America. There has not been a day that has passed that I haven’t missed the culture, geography and people. Being on the brink of returning has my knees weak and my mind in a constant wrestle between reasons and doubts. Damn, I am excited – that is the bottom line. I know this trip will become another major piece of my personal evolution.
My life has definitely changed thanks to Latin America. I speak Spanish with a very heavy Chilean accent. I married a Chilean, inheriting residency and a family on the other side of the world. I have chosen to leave everything behind to chase a dream of becoming a journalist and photographer in Latin America. For the third time, I am crossing the world to be with the woman I love and this time I am going by bike. My political views have evolved from Republican to anarchist to communist and now I think I am back to anarchy. Whatever you do, just don’t call me Republican. And of course, everybody now calls me Lukas. I am even wearing a black turtle neck right now.
Lukas Brinkerhoff is a junior majoring in journalism. His column documents his bicycle trek from Salt Lake City to Santiago, Chile.