A cold breeze grazed my back as I stood on the edge of a cliff. I was about to rappel, or descend off of a cliff using a rope, harness, and helmet, in Tobatí. I felt a heavy pressure lock itself inside of my lungs. The weight of last night, our final night in Santa Rosalia, this morning, leaving behind certain relationships that I know will not be the same after today, the 2-hour long hike we had just completed, and now the past two mini rappels I had anxiously accomplished, all clumped together in my lungs and chest and began to frighten me.
My back faced the edge of the cliff, my legs were frozen in place, and my eyes remained locked on the sky. I felt the power of this Earth beneath my trembling feet. As birds glided through the clouds, and people walked the ground like ants searching for a home, I felt tears push themselves out of my eyes. My breath searched for tranquility, but ceased to find it. I felt trapped in the wide open space I stood in.
I decided to descend last with one of the instructors, José, believing that by the time all the other students went down, I would feel better…but I could not have been more wrong. The wait only built and gave strength to any lurking anxiety, making me feel less and less ready to take the first step off the cliff. After the last two students went down, and it was my turn to go, I felt the world around me go silent. Everyone’s voices, the dogs barking, the faint murmur of the students at the bottom, even José, went quiet. The only sound I could hear was the firm beat of my pounding heart and the thickness of each breath that I took.
José began to attach my harness to his, using a long rope, while another instructor began to lock my harness onto other ropes that looked like knotted snakes. I slid my gloves onto my hands and gently brushed a bracelet on my left wrist, one given to me by a close friend in Santa Rosalia. I felt a rush of ease pass by quickly, and when I looked up, Florence stood there, smiling, continuing the distracting conversation tactic we were having moments before, one about our favorite smelling shampoo products.
Once I was fully clipped in, and we were ready to descend, I looked back to see José already dangling off of the cliff, ready to go down. I felt a shock of panic strike my lungs again. I was about to step off, when I quickly pulled myself back off of the edge, and began to repeat over and over, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this”. José pulled himself back up, comforting me by breathing with me, and began to discuss other ways to get down from the cliff.
I leaned forward, and stayed still while looking at my feet. I took deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth. I glanced at my bracelet one more time, and could only think of how quickly time goes by, and how this moment seemed so long, but in reality, it was already a memory. I wanted this moment to help me gain courage and strength. Though I felt breathless, I turned back to José, told him to clip me back in, and made it clear that I would be rappelling still.
I took my first step down, and clenched my hands tightly around the rope. It burned which made me immediately release tension. I slowly began to descend, and I felt weightless and free. I continued to breathe, while beginning a conversation about empanadas de queso with José. After some time of going down, I let the tension in my hands, arms, shoulders, and thighs go. I even began to swing a bit, still feeling free.
Once I reached the bottom, and I was detached from the rope and harness, I collapsed onto the ground. I continued to breathe, and felt an electric wave of power and freedom shoot through my fingertips to my toes.
There is so much that a new experience has to offer. Liberation, confidence, and ease are all emotions a person can gain from a new experience, but a person may also gain the strength to accept the unknown. They may even be able to find the beauty in it through a friendly conversation or the support held within something as small as a bracelet.
Camilla R., Rockville High School