8/16/2007 - Catching the AFS Bug

by Rebecca Messner (top row, second from left)

My mother used to tell me stories about her AFS experience in Brazil. I listened, a wide-eyed little girl, failing to imagine how she left behind her loved ones to live so far away for an entire year. But it’s like a bug, my mom had said. It’s something you catch, almost inexplicably, and can’t get rid of. Eventually, I caught it too.

My mother never forced it on me – she didn’t even bring it up, except for those memories she shared. I was 13 when she took me on vacation to visit Brazil, and at the end of the week I watched as my mother and her host family held each other, crying through their goodbye.

Their bond was incredible after all those years, and it left an impression. Not very long after this trip, I caught the bug full force, and I became the one with AFS luggage tags on my suitcase. I will never forget that suitcase: My life, condensed into 44 pounds. By the end of the year it grew to about twice the size, filled with another life’s worth of memories.

During my AFS year in Italy, from September, 2002 to July, 2003, I shared those similar experiences that every AFSer remembers. I struggled with a new language, gained a family, met people who opened my eyes and went places that left me breathless. The beauty of it, though, is that my year abroad was something especially unique.

My mom remembers waving the Brazilian flag out the window of her family’s VW bug when their country won the World Cup. I remember dressing up as Casanova for Carnavale in the streets of Venice, and making a dent on a 3 kilogram jar of Nutella with my host brothers on Christmas. I remember riding on the backs of motorinos and sitting on the steps of the post office, waiting for friends and observing the Italian passeggiata.

When it came time to leave my new family and friends, the tears came with abandon. As hard as I always imagined it would be to leave home, going back was even harder.

Five years later, I’ve still got the bug. Last year I decided to spend a semester of college in Brazil, eager to get a taste of some of the things my mother experienced. Now an active donor for AFS USA, she was asked to speak at AFS Brazil’s 50th anniversary celebration in Rio de Janeiro in October. Because I was in the area, I too was able to attend. Her Portuguese is still very good, and at that time mine was just getting better.

That night I once again listened to her tell those stories she used to tell me. This time, they were in Portuguese, and she was telling them to a room full of Brazilians, who were laughing with her and touched by her experience. I was overwhelmed; for despite the years, miles and cultures between our AFS years, we were brought together, miles from home, in support of the cause.

This year as AFS celebrates its 60th anniversary, let us take a moment to remember our own experiences – what made them unique to each of us. It is under these memories that we are united as distinctive members of one strong and colorful community. Congratulations, AFS!