Two Weeks of Memories – A Blog Reflection
By Ralph
Buenos Aires, Argentina – March 20, 2026
After only two weeks of volunteering with El Poder del Deporte in Buenos Aires, that’s a wrap for me on volunteering as an English teacher here.
The volunteers channel the local passion—fútbol (soccer to most of the world)—to give kids in tough barrios something solid: structure, teamwork, confidence, and a real break from the real grind of life and living without the essentials that we take for granted back home like safety, climate control, water and electricity amongst others.
I flew in to help with English. I originally wanted to teach adults, but — as usual — life had other plans. Ended up teaching children… and the exchange went so much deeper, both ways.”
Last night I slept like the dead. Elvis gets the credit. (Yesterday’s post has the full ridiculous story if you’re curious—it’s a good one.)
These past two weeks have been a slow, grounding return to what matters: moments of stillness amid the bustle of community work, and small acts of contribution in neighborhoods that need every bit of care they can get.
I volunteered with El Poder del Deporte, a nonprofit that channels the unifying power of sport—football above all—to reach children and young people in vulnerable parts of the city.
Through games, training, and safe spaces, they help build confidence, teamwork, and hope where those things can feel out of reach.
Mornings locked in quickly: coffee at Pasaje 312, an easy five-minute walk from 814 Defensa in San Telmo. Solid café con leche, flaky medialunas, that old Buenos Aires feel where the place just works. The neighborhood buzzes—historic streets, everyone walking like they’ve got a purpose.
Yesterday the program’s director set me up with an asado tour in Palermo. Four o’clock kickoff. After adapting to Argentine (two weeks here) time—where dinner barely starts before nine—it felt like an early lunch after lunch.
The grill was solid: chorizo, morcilla, vacío, the classics. Good, not fantastic. I’ve had better the first night here.
Only today, on my last day here, I meet Karen in the soccer field—a warm, thoughtful volunteer teacher who also works in the “miseria” slums (the raw Argentine term for the villas miseria, the informal settlements where life is stitched together with resilience and struggle).
She is originally from Paraguay (she says “Paraway” with that soft, familiar lilt), though she grew up here in Argentina. Because she knows I love writing stories too, she opened up and shared hers.
She explained how every year, when new volunteers arrive, she sits down to create a new version of this message to her mother—keeping the memory alive, letting the love speak louder than the grief.
The Guaraní (S American language) echoes, the remembered scent, the choice to smile instead of weep… it all landed deeply. Reading her words today felt like the perfect, unexpected gift to carry home.
Here is Karen’s message, shared with her generous permission—first in English, then in the original Spanish.
Karen’s Message to her Mother – English
Well, today I felt your presence and smelled your scent, and it made me think about why life is so unfair—why the people who do us so much good have to leave.
I’m not one to show a lot of affection; I’ve been like this since you left. I’m not very affectionate with people who know me.
I miss you so, so much and I want to be with you. You told me to tell my brother, and I did. Thank you for being there even though I can’t see you.
I felt your peculiar scent, those hugs, laughs, and when you scolded us in Guaraní. I miss you terribly—for example, your kisses and the “gracias” jajaja.
But well, up there they needed you and they had to take you. We all miss you.
Every day I wonder how you are, what you’re doing. I just come here to vent.
I miss you every single day and I don’t show it because you never would have liked to see me crying.
I keep smiling because I know you’d want me to be happy, since you’re no longer suffering.
You’re at peace, resting in peace after everything you endured here on earth. I have to go to heaven where there’s no pain, nothing bad.
I love you so, so much and miss you so, so much. I hope you’re doing well up there in heaven with my uncles.
I love them too, so much, and a little kiss to my beautiful little angels.
Karen
Mensaje de Karen – Español
Bueno, hoy sentí tu presencia y sentí tu olor, y me puse a pensar por qué la vida es tan injusta, por qué se tienen que ir las personas que nos hacen tanto bien. No soy de las que demuestran mucho cariño; soy así desde que te fuiste. No soy muy cariñosa con las personas que me conocen. Te extraño muchísimo y quiero estar con vos. Me dijiste que se lo contara a mi hermano y yo lo hice. Gracias por estar aunque no te vea. Sentí tu olor peculiar, esos abrazos, risas, y cuando nos retabas en guaraní. Me haces una falta enorme —por ejemplo, tus besos y las “gracias” jajaja. Pero bueno, allá arriba te necesitaban y te tuvieron que llevar. Todos te extrañamos. Los días me pregunto cómo estás, qué haces. Solo vengo a desahogarme. Te extraño todos los días y no lo demuestro porque nunca te hubiera gustado verme llorando. Ando de sonrisa en sonrisa porque sé que vas a querer que esté contenta, porque ya no estás sufriendo. Estás en paz, descansando en paz después de tanto que sufriste acá en la tierra. Tengo que ir al cielo donde no hay dolor, nada malo. Te amo muchísimo y te extraño muchísimo. Espero que estés bien allá en el cielo con mis tíos. Los amo demasiado y un besito a mis bellos angelitos.
As I leave these two weeks behind, Karen’s message touched me.
“We keep showing up, we keep remembering, we keep choosing to smile.”
With deep gratitude,
Gracias, Buenos Aires.
To my friend Alejandro, to the El Poder del Deporte crew, the kids, Lia, teachers and volunteers, Pachi, Elduardo, everyone who made two weeks stretch and matter.
¡Hasta la próxima!
Ralph
PS: …and my good friend from Dallas, Texas, who fed the cats. I volunteered my old walking/hiking shoes—they ended up in the local recycling dumpster (right there on the ground beside it, of course).
Over the past few days, I’ve been playing Santa: balloons for the kids today, marbles yesterday, school supplies the day before that. When I rolled up, my suitcase was already stuffed with soccer balls I’d brought along.
I have my own quirky system for racking up what I call “karma points.”
This trip’s haul should earn me some safe travels home—and smooth roads on my motorcycle.
I haven’t formed any deep bonds with specific people here. It’s been more of a broad, memorable experience: overall good, often fun, but not always nonstop excitement. The lodging, for instance, comes with a soundtrack of noise that doesn’t quiet down until well after 1 or 2 a.m.—that part tests your patience.
If you’re thinking about volunteering here (or anywhere similar in this South American country), I’d say two weeks is the bare minimum to make it worthwhile.
And if you’re a seasoned traveler like me, come prepared: bring gifts, small presents, or whatever might make your project smoother and more enjoyable for everyone involved.
A heads-up on the culture: gratitude here looks different than in the US.
People aren’t as quick with “please” and “thank you” in everyday interactions—it’s just not the norm. Don’t take it personally; it’s simply a different style.
One practical tip for fellow North Americans (or anyone used to seasoning): pack your own black pepper! It’s surprisingly hard to find here—they rely heavily on fresh herbs instead. Their sauces, like chimichurri and its variations, are delicious in their own right (garlicky, herby, tangy), but if you’re like me and love pepper on your eggs, you’ll miss it.
Those eggs arrive plain—no salt or pepper standard—and while the herb-forward food is tasty, sometimes you just crave that classic kick.
It’s been an adventure worth having. If you’re open to the differences and come with an open mind (and maybe a shaker of pepper), you’ll walk away with some solid karma points of your very own.
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