Mr. Ed

35 days.

840 hours.

1,680 episodes of How I Met Your Mother. 

That's how much time I have left here in the good ol' U.S. of A. before I depart for Costa Rica. There's just so much that can happen in that timeframe, my mind still quakes at the thought of it. And yet, it's going to fly by. I remember back when I first accepted the invitation at the end of June. February 22 felt like it was a lifetime away. Now it's quite literally a month away. Where did the time go?  I'll tell you where a majority of it went - learning how to speak Spanish. Let me tell you about my tutor, Mr. Ed. 

Stately, isn't he?

It's Edwin Lugo, to be exact. Ed is a customer service rep at a bigtime health insurance company, and he and I actually go back a couple years. I first approached him about my own policy back in 2013 when I was in town on business with TEAMeffort. Two years later, I had more questions. It just so happened I was supposed to meet the mother of a friend of mine for Spanish lessons, and she had to cancel at the last second. We planned on meeting at the Starbucks on Bayou next to Chick-Fil-A, but it was a no-go. I was already on that side of town when she let me know it wasn't going to work that day, so I decided to pop in to see good ol' Mr. Ed while I was in the neighborhood. 

He was as warm as I remembered him being. I was reminded immediately of his Latin background (His is an accent nestled somewhere between Puerto Rico and Brooklyn), and I was all of a sudden caught up in an idea. As we concluded our health care-related conversation, he asked if there was anything else he might do to help. I hesitated, almost embarrassed by the request I was inevitably about to make. "Well, I do have one more question," I feebly half-whispered, "How would you feel about being my Spanish tutor?" Ed was understandably surprised by my question and took a moment to ponder it. After explaining why, in fact, I needed a Spanish tutor, Ed got down to the nitty gritty. "Tell me the reason behind joining the Peace Corps. Tell me why you want to go and serve with them in the first place." It clicked. I shared with Ed that my heart was made to serve, that I would never be satisfied until I found myself helping the Least of These, that I felt that it was my portion of the Great Commission to go and serve in this way. "That's what I was looking for all along, Dakota." Boom. Instamigos. 

All of this took place on Monday, May 11th, and Ed was a man of his word. We met for the first time at the Starbucks on Bayou (heh) three days later, and Ed has been faithful to meet with me once a week - literally every single week - since then. He has endured some stubbornness as I struggled to remember all the Spanish I'd learned way back when in high school for the first few weeks. On top of that, I had to pass a CLEP Spanish 1 & 2 test to even have a shot at getting the invitation from PC. Needless to say, our first month and a half was a stressful time, but he handled it with poise and grace. I can say with no hesitation whatsoever that I would not be where I am if it weren't for Ed and his heart to help me. 

I passed the test (got a 60 out of 80 when I needed just a 50!), and within a week I received my official invitation to join the Peace Corps. Ed and I celebrated - for exactly five minutes. That's when the Spanishing got serious. It had a real purpose now. We continued to meet once a week, and Ed began to introduce new areas of vocabulary and verbs with conjugations I'd never heard of into our conversations. That carried on for the next seven months, up until the present day. 

Beyond the Spanish help, Ed has also helped in a number of other enormous ways. He set me up with an appointment at the optometrist for whom his awesome wife, Minnie, works. Got a nice checkup and a new pair of glasses, too! More recently, I had to sell my truck, and Ed was kind enough to let me borrow his work truck for the time I have left stateside. It's a Dodge Dakota, in case you were wondering. 

From all my time with Ed, I'm reminded of the immense respect that is due people of bilingual and multilingual ability. Do you realize how enormously smart one must be to think, speak, and write in more than one language? It is mind-numbing to fathom what it's like for someone who speaks three or more languages. In the words of a twenty-something college student, "I can't even." 

The days are drawing near for my departure to Costa Rica, but I can say with absolute certainty that I wouldn't be anywhere close to as prepared for that experience if it weren't for my brother, Mr. Ed Lugo. He's been a huge help in this big process. Little did I know that day I strolled into his office I wouldn't just be getting some help with a health insurance policy, but I'd be establishing a lifelong friendship. This brief piece only scratches the surface of what having Ed as my friend and my brother has meant to me, but I would be remiss if I didn't at least try to share with you how important he's been in my life. Dios te bendiga, hermano!

'Ño!