Closing my eyes in an attempt to block out the dust, I took a step up and out of the

sheltered structure. Although we had begun to grow accustomed to the striking humidity and scorching heat of Costa Rica, today was particularly brutal. My hands were the next best alternative to sunglasses as I stumbled into the sunlight, searching desperately for eye protection. To my right, I glimpsed a girl, about seven, skipping down the makeshift road. To my left, a gift bestowed upon me a patch of shade. One foot in front of the other, I managed to plop down in the only visible section of salvation from this bloodthirsty weather. My sister, almost 13 years of experience ahead of me, took notice of the square of grass I had turned into an elegant napping spot. Allowing another student to take a turn mixing the concrete I had begun to detest, Megan wandered over to my hiding spot.

 

"Clara, you see that girl over there, why don't you invite her over to play with you?"

There she was, sitting across from me, looking less thrilled than when I had seen her a couple of minutes before. My first instinct was to decline, for my social battery had drained from my first step outside our bunk earlier this morning. However, I thought to myself, there's no harm in inclusion. Besides, maybe she is too shy to come over on her own. Pushing softly up from the cooled ground, I managed to stroll as casually as I could appear to this RoadGirl.

 

"Hola," I proclaimed – the extent of my Spanish knowledge at eight years old. Indicating with my hands, I managed to explain that she was welcome to join me in refuge from the sun with my older sister. Peering through her lashes with a look of bewilderment, she paused. A quick glance back at my sister for reassurance, then I pointed at my chest and said, "Clara." Her once solemn face became a meadow of gratefulness, beaming wider than I had ever seen. She jumped up and ran across the dirt road, sinking down in our spot.

 

As time passed, we began to realize that despite our differences in spoken language, we still found a way to communicate. Lunch was approaching, and while the rest of the team busied themselves providing a safe, comfortable living space for a family, the air outside was filled to the brim with giggles. Bent over with happiness, RoadGirl took her turn hiding my figurines in the swaying grass, long dead but still present. Clutching the pair of binoculars, I scanned the world around me in hopes of beating our fastest time.

 

Except, every which way I looked, it wasn't toys I could depict, but a community. This town I had begun to fall in love with reminded me of home. Shawnigan, but looking in the mirror to find attributes the polar opposite of what was originally expected. Observing the scenario, I took notes that will be forever ingrained in my brain; the houses I had assumed were surrounding us were merely tin roofing stacked upon thin wooden slats. The concrete floor pouring into the home to my side was the only solid floor in range of my sight. On a mission, a young family hurried past down the road, feet bare and exposed to what I had considered a heatwave worth dying in. At home, dogs were able to be fed, loved and spoiled. Here they stumbled back and forth, praying they would be spotted by a kind soul, while those who loved them had to consider their own needs before the dogs’.

 

Warmth sprouted in my stomach and slithered its way through my veins. Only, not the “sitting in front of the fire with a cup of hot cocoa” warmth. For this was a new sensation of understanding and shock that I still wish I could share with my friends back home, despite being uncomfortable. Gaining perspective on RoadGirl’s home had opened up doors I didn't know existed. I dropped the binoculars just in time to see her climb on the back of a motorcycle.

 

"Wait!" I called after her, desperate and useless. With one final "Gracias, Clara!" and a wave farewell, she and her father rode away. I longingly gazed after her until she was just a cloud of dust, causing me to cough and a memory to look back on.

 

This experience has always been nagging at the back of my mind, and now I know why. RoadGirl shaped who I am by letting me glimpse into her life as a kid growing up on the other side of the world. In a community I never learned more about, and without ever sharing her name. I have continued to keep an empathetic point of view for all new places I travel, especially on the three other EDGE trips I've been on. With each person I meet, I am mindful that all individuals come from different backgrounds and deserve a chance at everything. No matter one's socioeconomic status, beliefs, language barriers and opportunities, each child leans into the wonderment and curiosity that come along with growing friendships.