“I’m only 20 years old.” I thought to myself repeatedly as I sat on an international plane to a city I have never been to. I don’t know how to speak their language and I did not know what to expect when I stepped off this plane. It seems strange to me, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but I had all the confidence in the world. I walked through the long tunnels of the Rio de Janeiro airport to customs. With my two carry on bags digging into my shoulder and holding onto my passport with an iron grip, I kept moving forward. Following our group as we step in line with hundreds other eager travelers. The smell of frozen dinners and morning breath begins to fill the air and I remember feeling so impatient, ready to step outside onto the streets of Brazil.
I was running on four of sleep and a small muffin from the plane, but once I stepped on the bus to our hostel, the feelings of hunger, fatigue, and nerves began to flutter away. I sat in the window seat, I leaned my head against the window and I did not mutter a word. I was watching the cars, buildings and the landscape pass by. I wasn’t looking for anything, but I was looking at everything. Capturing pictures in my mind, remembering the smell of the musky tour bus and the feeling of the soft damp seats on the back of my knees. This was it, I was in Rio de Janeiro— I am at the Olympics. And like a song I could not get out of my head I began thinking to myself, “I am only 20 years old.”
Once we stepped off the bus to our hostel, I stood in the streets, voices begin muffle and I started to walk away. A huge bush of pink flowers hung over a wall and the high noon light shined on them as if they were screaming, “Take my picture!” That was photo number one. I turn around and my shutter began to fire. I vividly remembered those first few photos of the narrow streets and the mystical shadows seeped onto the sidewalks. I looked up at our ancient hostel, guarded with a cement wall and sheltered with a rustic orange roof. I finally take my bag and race around the hostel, looking for who knows what, but I seemed to found it on the roof. Standing so still, ignoring all orders and instructions of finding our rooms. We had to sign our names on pieces of paper with Portuguese that I could not read. Instead, I sat on the roof top. I let my legs hang on the side and I watched the people on bikes zip by and people walking their dogs. The sun felt warm, but the breeze felt cool on my smelly skin. Here I am, on a roof top in Rio de Janeiro. The feeling of peace crept over my body. The long wait and the days of travel are over and it was time to hit the ground running. But I was in my own world— too high off the adventure and I said to myself, “I am only 20-years-old.”
Each day was a new adventure, we went to Sugar Loaf mountains, the Olympic Boulevard, the Media center or to Christ the Redeemer. Each day we went to a new location and we had a certain amount of time to get interviews, stories, and photos to create a package of information to push out to different media outlets. My favorite days were is when our professors gave us freedom. They told us to go out, explore, and bring back a story. Though I loved the freedom, I found those were the hardest stories to find. I was a photographer and on the days I was told to go shoot, I found people either loved getting their picture taken or hated it. I would ask for names and they couldn’t understand me or they would just tell me no. The hardest part was, I might have a great photo but I they did not give me their name. And in the eyes of my professor, I had no picture— was the rule. There were days I got ripped apart from my instructors about the photos I turned in. Though all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry to my dad on the phone, I told my self. “You are 20-years-old,” so act like it.
The next day, I picked up my camera after taking eight deep breathe’s and I set a goal of what I wanted to get out of the day— I wanted some damn good portraits and some incredible culture shots. We went to Santa Teresa that day and it was the most crowded situation I have ever been in. People from all over the world were on colorful stairs in Escada da Delapa doing the same thing, getting a pictures of themselves sitting on the stairs. It was like the sky opened and I felt like this was my chance. I took over 5,000 photos that day and I only edited 75 of them. I had names for all the people I needed and I had the portraits I was looking for. It was the most successful shoot I had in the whole trip. So what was so different? Why was today such a successful shoot and the other days were not, what changed?
Somewhere in the mist of not getting caught up in the moment, I became apart of it. I unleashed my childlike wonder. I am only 20-years-old I tell myself. That is such a young age to be traveling the world, especially as a photographer to the Olympics. I stopped being scared of people, I started laughing with them and I began to connect with them. I began to love their culture as much as they did. My fear of failing began to float away and started exploring as if there were no limits, like a child on a playground. I broke the rules, I turned my back to the group and I begin to have success behind the view finder. I am 20-years-old, but I followed directions like a 7-year-old. I didn’t care who got upset with me or what other were doing. We are at the Olympics, in Rio de Janeiro there is no time for rules or boundaries. Did I miss opportunities? Absolutely! I don’t think there is a time that you don’t miss great photo opportunities. But did I live and feel? I lived to the fullest extent when I was exploring that city. I came, I saw, and I loved so deeply, I left my heart on top of the mountains that roll around the city. I miss Rio, everyday.
Though, that adventure is over and the people who touched my heart are 8,000 miles away, I still feel them with me everyday. The mistakes I made and the lessons I’ve learned will forever rest in the back of my mind and are shared tools for my bag of tricks for the next adventure. It woke me up and rattled my soul. I was so comfortable with talking to people here on American soil, I sometimes forget how to interact with other people and when it becomes difficult we shut down. Instead of changing our mind set to be open and humble— To smile more and think less. One the most important qualities I learned from this trip is humility. I can’t take photo’s when I feel cocky and full of myself, but I can take great ones when I set goals and find what I can do to become a better photographer. The sad thing is, I had to fly to another country to figure that out. I heard a Bill Bryson quote when I came back from Rio and I felt it, “Suddenly you’re five years old again. You can’t read anything, you only have the rudimentary sense of how things works, you cant even reliably cross a street without endangering you life. Your whole existence become a series of interesting guesses.”
I took a chance. Made a decision and guessed on almost everything I did. But I never once doubted where I was in those tiny moments in the city of my dreams. Then again, I was only 20-years-old. What do I know?
