Photo: Wissal and her host family, the DeGraves family, in the US from 2017 - 2018

By: Wissal Yaqouti (YES 2017 - 2018, Morocco, hosted by AFS in Kalamazoo, MI)

On the night of July 31, 2017, at the airport of Casablanca, a group of ecstatic teenagers were hugging and waving goodbyes to their worried families that they wouldn't see for ten months. With tears of extreme joy mixed with sadness, they walked inside the building, keeping in mind that a far away land waited for them with the best time of their lives and strangers that would join their loved-ones-list. There is a fascinating beauty in the sensation that urges you to run back to your mom’s arms before it’s too late, as a little voice whispers in your mind, “What if I’m making a big mistake?” and a louder voice urges you to keep going, because giving it all up sounds like the biggest mistake.

My name is Wissal Yaqouti, and I’m one of those 20 teenagers who got to experience the intriguing beauty of sitting on an airplane seat for the first time knowing that from that very moment, your life will radically change, leaving you one year later not remembering exactly who you were before it all started. 

I was placed in Kalamazoo, Michigan. When I learned that was where I was going to live for ten months, I got a little anxious. Because Kalamazoo is not what we read about in magazines or hear about in TV shows and news. I wanted to see Hollywood and Disneyland. But here I am one year later, feeling so honored and proud to be able to say that Kalamazoo is my other home. It made me realize that the U.S is far, far more than what the media shows us. It’s a country of differences which is a blessing because cultural richness is a very sacred thing. 

For almost a year, I lived with a “host family”, that I would rather simply call my “American family”. They offered me a nice room and bed without ever meeting me in person before. They provided food and water whenever I needed them. They opened their lives to me, and gave me a warm, welcoming, and very loving environment. They gave me respect for my religious and cultural differences. They gave me their time to have long conversations, to listen to me when things weren’t going great, to play games with me, and to show me aspects of a typical American life. But most importantly, they gave me the privilege of being part of their family.

The friends I made are beautiful souls who introduced me to the teenage American life. It took me quite a bit to build strong connections with some people at school, but in the end it all came naturally. It can be frustrating the first months when you ask yourself “Why isn’t it easy to be best friends with the first teenager I meet?”, but once you put yourself in their shoes, it all makes sense. As exchange students, we get very excited to discover that new place and meet new people, since we don’t really know anyone. But it is totally different for somebody who belongs there; they already have their routines and long-time friends, so it can be weird to meet someone from a different country and to immediately start doing stuff with them. But one thing that a year abroad teaches you is to get out of your bubble and talk to strangers, even if there is a risk of rejection. In the end you always find people that make your year more fun. 

So here I am one year later, sharing this part of my life with whoever is reading this because I want everyone to realize how life-changing a year abroad can be. The changes in my life were internal and external. I not only don’t fit anymore in the pants I owned ten months ago, but my eyes opened to so many things. I’ve always been fond of the idea of going away somewhere strange and unfamiliar, and of its risky and adventurous side. But this first trip away from my family and friends enhanced that urge to go somewhere new. It somehow made me more aware of how unsure our lives are and how much I want to keep traveling in my life. I realized that that is the only way to know more about yourself and the world. 

When you look at beautiful sunsets that you’ve seen before somewhere miles and miles away from you, when you listen to the birds making the same sounds as the ones back home, when you are out in the world seeing the same things that are somehow different, your connection with God gets stronger. That is when you realize that the beauty of our world is very underestimated. When you meet new people from different backgrounds, cultures, and religions, you realize that your ability to love and care for someone goes beyond the small things that we give much more importance than they deserve. And that can be terrifying because once you choose to love somebody, and to open your heart to them (whoever they are, and no matter the kind of relationship you have with them), you choose to give them the power to bruise it or break it. It's scary but beautiful to show our most human side.

This first trip abroad has made me aware of the power of travelling. And I’m not talking about going to fancy restaurants in famous cities, but about going places not talked about much in the media. About walking in streets that are not in the most touristic areas, about getting inside local bookstores. About taking pictures. A lot of pictures. Random pictures of a night sky that is so similar to the one back home, but so different in the same time. A sky that leads your thoughts someplace deep, and dangerous for those who are afraid of sensitivity. Random pictures of those you now call friends and family, acting like the lovable weirdos they are. Random and spontaneous pictures of those people, you can’t really find an explanation for where your love for them came. Pictures that honor all your differences. 

Pictures are what save you when it’s all over, and you start to seriously think that it’s all been a dream. Pictures are what make you live it all a second time. They are what make you remember all those details that the image doesn't show. They are what remind you of how numb your hands were that snowy day. They are what remind you of the long walk in the rain that you took with your American dad on your birthday, and of the awesome time you had with the rest of the family when you got back home and blew out the candles on your cake. They are what remind you of how frustrated you were that Christmas Eve in your room because you were having a hard time wrapping the gifts, before you took a picture of your loved ones opening them the next morning. They are what remind you of how pressured by time you and your friend were when she was doing your prom makeup, before she took pictures of the great job she did.  Pictures revive those feelings in you, and the more you look at them, the less likely that exact feeling will fade. 

So take pictures, and look around you very carefully. Look at each and every person that counts for you. Look at their facial expressions, at the way their nose shrinks when they laugh, and at the tiny dimple they have on their chin. Look at the shape of their eyes, and at the freckles that miraculously show up when they go out in the sun. Look at the stars and see if they are countable. Look at the small details in the room you are in. Close your eyes and listen to how your body feels at that moment. Try as hard as you can to ingrain those faces, those stars, that room, and those feelings in your memory. Because once it’s all over, memories are all you have left. And though they can tear you apart from inside, memories are crucial to survival.