This is what I do.

When I began my first day of work three months ago, my only goal was survival. I arrived at 8am and survived until 5pm. Everyone around me spoke Spanish. They knew exactly what they were supposed to do at any given moment. They knew how the hot water machine worked, and they knew which computers sometimes crashed unexpectedly.

I didn't.

It was sink or swim, and every correct Spanish phrase that I spoke propelled me toward the surface. Everything I wanted to say, every "Can I use this desk?" and "Should I be at that meeting?" and "Who is Olga Mendoza?" that got lodged in my throat and couldn't escape past my petrified tongue - these tied themselves to my ankles and pulled me deeper underwater. 

Today is the day that I look back on my time with Starfish and am able to say the words, "Three months ago..." Today, when I mix up my words or need to act out ideas during coordinator meetings, my colleagues smile and encourage me as they shout out guesses to my charades. When I come into the office, I can sit down and have a meaningful conversation with Marilena about her weekend. Norma, the in-country director and I, lovingly poke fun at each other in between hugs. I'm not treading water today. I'm held on the surface by the raft created by my new family: the staff at Starfish One by One. Today, I see the work that I do every day as my work. Work that is meaningful, and work that wouldn't be done if I wasn't doing it. I come into the office with goals other than survival.

My mom came to work with me yesterday. At the end of the day, she told me that she finally understood what I was doing every day. It was then that I realized that no one who's known me for more than 12 weeks really knows what I do from 8:00-5:00. So here it is.

Some days I sit at a desk for 4 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the afternoon. I send emails and make reservations for visitors. 

Some days I take a speed boat across Lake Atitlán to Santiago to interview students or ask a question to a mentor who hasn't responded to my emails. When I conduct interviews, I have the privilege of sitting one-on-one with a young woman (sometimes as old as I am) and hearing her story. And then I get to write about it so that others can hear it, too.

Some days I take a chicken bus to Sololá and observe a mentor group. We play games with balloons and dancing, and do vocal empowerment exercises that involve yelling and doing the wave. I take pictures and put them on Facebook with captions that don't do justice to the empowerment I've witnessed.

Some days I sit at a desk for 4 hours in the morning and write a blog post, and then send emails for 4 hours in the afternoon. The blog post is one of the most beautiful things I've written because it allows people far away to experience the magic that I experience every day.

Some days I go to Antigua to meet groups of donors, then bring them back to Panajachel. I go out to dinner with them and other Starfish staff, and translate riveting conversations.

Some days I have to facilitate the conversations, too, when visitors aren't as excited as I hoped they'd be to meet the men and women who are breaking the cycle of poverty in Guatemala.

Some days I translate meetings between important people who are making important changes to the organization. Some days I'm able to share my ideas too, and some days they are used.

Some days I take groups of visitors on the same speed boat across the lake to Santiago. We observe a mentor group and do silly games with balloons and dancing and act silly as we practice our vocal empowerment. I translate question and answer sessions as donors begin to uncover more about the young women they are supporting, and as these young women learn more about the people who gave their time to come visit them.

These same days, I take the group of visitors in the back of a pick-up truck to visit the home of one of the girls in the program. We stand in a circle with the family and say our names and how we're feeling (and we're not allowed to just say "bien"). We play more silly games. We learn how to make tortillas, and we share a meal with the family. I've gotten pretty good at making tortillas, so sometimes the girls let me flip them on the stove. I translate a question and answer session at the end. I've gotten better at understanding people when they're talking through tears.

Some days I see a group of Starfish's Girl Pioneers on the bus, and we hug each other and greet each other by name. They ask me when I'm coming back up to Sololá, and I don't tell them that this is my last week working for Starfish.

Today is my last day in the office. Tomorrow I'll take the boat to Santiago one last time to meet up with the rest of the staff at the staff retreat. It'll make it easier for us when I tell people that I'm definitely coming back soon. Because that's what people do. When they find what they're meant to be doing in life, they come back and they do it.