Tufts Blogs

A few months ago, I celebrated my 19th birthday three thousand miles away from my parents and siblings. Instead of singing around a homemade Betty Crocker cake or marking my height on our kitchen wall, I was creating new birthday traditions in the Sacred Valley of Peru.

On November 10th, my alarm went off at 7:15 am, and on the rare occasion, I didn’t hit snooze. I felt wide awake with nervous excitement as the breeze and smells of spring floated in through the window. I slid on my Birkenstocks and crossed the balcony to the kitchen where my nerves immediately melted away. My two little brothers cried “¡Feliz cumpleaños!” from behind the door, and my host parents each embraced me in a giant hug. Just like my many birthdays at home, I felt surrounded by love.

After my day with Zhiyi at our volunteer placement, I walked home—happy but a little tired after reading “Franklin” at least five times. At the door, my 6-year-old brother Gabriel urgently stopped me from looking out the window to our yard where my family was blowing up gold balloons.

At the party with my cohort, we played “chapa” (tag) and “escondidas” (hide and seek) as requested by my brothers. We shared stories and danced to salsa music over an array of “bocadito’s” (snacks) and Inka Cola (a bubble-gum flavored soda that bears a neon yellow color). I wore a crown and birthday sash decorated with glitter, flowers, and ribbon made by Ella. It was the perfect night.

After the sun went down, we sang “Happy Birthday” followed by a rendition of “Feliz Cumpleaños” over a chocolate cake that had both of my names spelled out in pink frosting—Teagan and “Snacks.”

Following Peruvian tradition, I leaned in to take a bite of the cake, and to my surprise, my brother pushed my face into it from his tippy toes. Frosting blurred my vision and all I could hear was the chorus of laughter. I was so happy I didn’t even mind having frosting in my nose for at least a week.

After a few more games, we sat in a circle (my host brothers climbing over us), and I eagerly opened the cards and gift bags in front of me. I was given chocolate and markers from the lovely Veena, and two marble elephants from my host family. My mom, Yaki, explained that they mean “family” and bring good luck while my eyes were filling with tears.

Following some more hugs, Emma, one of my longest friends, presented a slideshow she had made to celebrate my birthday—a tradition dating back to seventh grade. We laughed at photos from Middle School and reminisced about our two and a half months together in Peru. I started to tear up thinking about how far Emma and I had come from Medford when Emma suddenly handed Nica the laptop.

Not to give anything away, but I had never cried so much in Peru as I did that night. One by one, everyone in our cohort shared anecdotes and stories. From my and Nica’s plan to retire to a vineyard in Peru to walking around Cusco with Pikachu hats with Tziavi, there were so many small moments that we had shared that meant so much to me. Sophia showed photos where we would joyfully study together in silence in our separate beds, and Elaine had a lot of inside jokes to share. I was crying so much by the end because I just could not believe how lucky I was to have these people as my family.

That night, as I walked my friends to the door and hugged them goodbye, there were so many emotions going through my head. I felt grateful. I felt happy. And most importantly, I felt as loved as ever—loved by my cohort, loved by my host family, loved through the texts and calls by my family and friends at home, and loved by the new place I called home.

So cheers to new and old traditions alike. No chapter of life will be like any other, and I am so lucky to have started this one surrounded by an amazing group of people.