One of our Young Voices team, Anne Flynn, shares her experience of moving over six-thousand miles away, whilst also acknowledging her privilege she had making that decision in comparison to some friends she has made along the way.

by Anne Flynn | Photography by Natalie Davis

People who relocate to a new country can be divided into two categories, those who choose to move and those who don’t have that luxury.

For me, it was a choice. When I boarded my flight to South America, I was excited. I was looking forward to something different, seeking new pastures and greener horizons. The only Spanish I had was ´hola´ and ´gracias´, but I had travelled to other various countries before not knowing the language, and everything had gone fine. I soon realised that this time would be different.

The many difficulties I experienced made me see how much I took everyday communication for granted. I struggled to ask for the simplest things, mispronouncing words, mixing them up, and saying the wrong words entirely. Shopkeepers blankly stared at me, vendors laughed, and bus terminal staff rolled their eyes as I failed miserably to go from a Glasgow Southsider to Spanish-speaking señorita.

What struck me most was my hesitation to participate. At home, I was always the first one to talk, to joke, to ask questions, but here I kept quiet. My self-consciousness because of my poor grasp of the language had silenced me. I felt shy around native speakers, saying as little as possible to get by.

A few months after moving, something changed. Instead of being afraid to be wrong, I decided to be humble about it. I had come to a place with no prior knowledge of its culture, people or language. I had to graciously accept my fate and greet situations with humour instead of embarrassment. Things began to click.

For the most part, people want to help. I just had to be vulnerable enough to let them. The more I spoke Spanish, the more I was able to ask for corrections. People repeated sentences for me, spoke slowly and corrected my pronunciation. I had the privilege to learn.

For Armando Gascon, things were very different. Five years ago, he moved from Caracas, Venezuela to Lima, Peru. Caracas has held the infamous title of the most dangerous capital city in the world since 2013. But Armando´s story began with another ‘boy who lived’:

I learned English because I read Harry Potter when I was ten years old. And I said to myself, I will learn English because I wanted to read the books in the language they were written in. I learned using a dictionary, translating music and watching movies in English with the subtitles turned on. Then I wanted to learn more about the culture too. Harry Potter changed my f**king life.

His interest in foreign culture and language led him to study modern languages at a national university in Venezuela, but he says: “The situation was very hard. I couldn't finish the course because the government shut the university. After learning some language skills, I started to work in hostels and hotels instead.”

According to the UN, Venezuelans are the largest population group displaced from their country. Over seven million people have had to leave Venezuela, more than the entire population of Scotland. For Armando, the security situation became too serious to stay: “Ten years ago, I was kidnapped. Then in 2017, a guy pulled a gun on me when I was on my way to work, trying to steal my phone. My dad was living in Lima already so I called him there and five minutes later he’d called back to tell me he'd booked me a ticket to join him.”

Armando is enjoying his new life in Lima. However, his feelings towards why he had to move are mixed: “It is weird to explain. You feel shame. You feel sad because you shouldn’t have to move from your country when the reason for moving is out of your hands.”

Like many other refugees, Armando has experienced hostility. In a tale as old as time, the national media has disproportionately focused on news stories about crime committed by refugees. This exaggerated reporting, along with the government ushering in stricter immigration policies has increased animosity: “A lot of Peruvians assume all Venezuelan people are bad and we are stereotyped as this.

The change in government policy means it is now more difficult for Venezuelans to come to Peru: “Five years ago I was able to just come with my passport. Things are more difficult now…people need a certain type of visa”.

Despite the contexts being wildly different, the parallels with the UK’s treatment of those seeking asylum are striking… negative media coverage and increased government regulations governing immigration resulting in a hostile environment for refugees.

Armando also said something that struck a chord: “I want to move to other countries but not just because of a bad situation; I want to move to meet new people and new cultures.” This was the reason I moved to South America, and I know I was lucky and privileged to be able to do it.

Those who move, whether through choice or not, are generally just seeking something better, or something else. It can be uncomfortable, and even scary. Particularly, when you aren’t able to communicate. After making this move, I have a newfound respect and admiration for those who take a leap into the unknown, in particular those who don’t have the luxury to choose.