Talking to my 15-year-old self

When I was 15/16 years old, the Kraft family hosted a foreign exchange student, Juliana, from Brazil.

When we met with the exchange rep and learned about Ju and her background, everyone was excited, myself included. She would spend one semester with us. We moved Michael's bunk beds into my Michael Jordan-clad room as Ju and I would become roommates.

Looking back on the experience makes me cringe. Being 15, I was way too cool for school. I wish I had the foresight to understand what an amazing experience it was to have a cultural window into the world from my own bedroom on Gloucester Ct, and to have a Brazilian sister. When Ju arrived she spoke almost no English. We had a really hard time communicating, but found a way speaking half-Spanish half-Portuguese at night in the confines of our bunk beds. I found a lot of things about her interesting, and loved hearing her stories about Brazil, her family, and Carnaval.

But the novelty of the situation wore off quickly, and soon I became less than interested. I recall several times when my parents called me into the basement for a chat. They pleaded with me to be open-minded and nice, reminding me what it must be like for Ju to be so far from home. But as being 15 goes, I had way more important things to worry about, like who I was going to  Homecoming with, why my parents wouldn't let me shop at Abercrombie & Fitch, who I would drive to the football game with my newly acquired driver's license, and how my feathered bangs looked with my flannel shirt, baggy jeans, and sweet patent leather Sketchers. 

In the first weeks Juliana was with us she spent many hours on the phone with her mom, crying. I was a self-important bitch to put it lightly, and made her often times feel less than welcome. Eventually in the 6 months that she was a part of our family, I came around and I bawled my eyes out when she left, begging her to stay, apologizing for being such a "puta". I can't change any of that. I was immature, insecure, and self-absorbed. At the time I had no frame of reference to really understand how difficult it was for Ju to come to the US, English-less, to live with a strange family where the oldest daughter was miserable. I have thought a lot about that in my travels, specifically when I was living with the Ramos in Xela, and the kids couldn't understand how an adult of my age couldn't speak their language. I now know what it's like to be in a place where you don't speak the language and can't understand anything anyone is saying to you, though not to the degree that Ju felt it. I have been humbled by the experience of it.  

We lost touch with Ju after she left us, but we never forgot our time with her as the 6th member of our family. When we talked about her, my mom never let me forget how I acted. The nice thing about life is that you eventually grow up, and sometimes you get second chances.  Last year, by the grace of Facebook, Juliana found us. We spent weeks emailing back and forth, trying to catch up on the last decade. After 12 years, we were reunited at the Sao Paulo airport on Wednesday.

You see the thing is, that even though it was a rocky experience, it meant a lot to both of us. Last September she expressed that she would love for me to come to Brazil and it was a place I wanted to visit during my year away. We decided I should come in March to experience the celebration that is Carnaval. We greeted each other with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, marveling at how both of us essentially look the same as we did 12 years ago.

On the traffic-filled drive back to the city, we filled each other in on basic details of our lives, giving each other family updates. She has vivid memories of Noblesville, and we laugh, albeit a bit uncomfortably about the experience and how it all went down. We talk about the difficulty of learning another language and Ju explains some of the ins and outs of Sao Paulo and Brazilian culture. She is excited to show me her Brazil, and I am thankful she doesn't hold grudges, and is welcoming me back into her life.

I am happy for this chance to "redeem" my adolescent self. I feel humbled that she has opened her doors to me, and am excited to learn about Brazil, to meet her family and see her life here. I can't change the past and how I acted, I can only solidify the newly-revived relationship with my long-lost Brazilian sister. And that's exactly what I intend to do.