Negative PCR test, sir?” muttered the Peruvian health officer guarding the entrance to passport and border control.

“Oh no…” I thought. I didn’t have one.

I had checked in earlier that day and was asked for a test, experiencing the same sense of shock and stress. I had done plenty of research prior to the trip and knew I would never let something like that slip through the cracks. Worse – it was Wednesday and we had a program scheduled as early as Friday. This was not just any program. It was one that had been marked down for several weeks – both on their schedule and ours. The timeline was impossible. Even if I turned around and went back to Connecticut right then, I couldn’t get a PCR test in time to fly out the following day.

I had been so careful in picking program locations and couldn’t believe I fumbled this one. I checked the Peruvian U.S. Embassy website, which said passengers were allowed to enter if they presented a negative PCR test or proof of vaccination. You can imagine my fear when the health officer told me that they had changed this rule not even two weeks ago.

“Maybe the U.S. Embassy website hasn’t been updated recently?” she said. I feared that if she was right and I was wrong, I would be sent home packing.

One second, I pleaded, quickly logging onto airport wifi and bringing up the embassy’s site. And there it was – my saving grace. *Updated October 13, 2021*. The health officer explained the mix-up and said she would allow an exception due to faulty information from the embassy. I breathed a long, hard sigh of relief.

On to my next step – customs… I had documents from our partners in Peru, but was still tagged and sent to have my bags searched. The customs officer removed one, single ball and disappeared into the abyss. After an eternity of waiting, she reappeared. “Okay, you can go.” I barely even let her finish her sentence and I was out of there. I didn’t even look back. 

I was picked up in the parking lot by my Uber driver and off I went to a familiar land – Magdalena Del Mar.

I run programs in Peru about once every three years and this one would be no different, following that same pattern. Of course, Around the Worlds started back in Peru with our first-ever program back in 2015. This place has always been special for more reasons than one. I was last in Magdalena Del Mar back in 2018 for a program in the dangerous place known as Ventanilla. I enjoyed chopping it up with my Uber driver, despite being pretty beat after a 6-hour flight. He was energetic and talkative, excited to share about his sons and their love for soccer after I revealed my reason for being in the country.

He was Venezuelan and I told him how I had always wanted to bring our programs there, going as far as to set up a program at an orphanage in Caracas before ultimately having it fall through. Whenever we reached a red light, he would scroll through his phone and show me videos of his youngest son, Ignacio – three years old, at soccer training. Running and jumping and dribbling a ball as big as him.

Finally, after a chat through our 30-minute trip we reached Magdalena Del Mar. It was late and it was dark, but I felt comforted and safe after the positive interaction I had had with this complete stranger. We pulled up to my apartment, a 15 story tower. “Wait amigo, I have something for you. Of course I’ll give you a tip through the app since I don’t have efectivo ahorita, pero también tengo una pelota para ti, por Ignacio.” His face lit up. We moved to the trunk of his car and I opened up my luggage to reveal nearly 40 soccer balls, all different styles, and colors. His eyes got even wider. Giving him permission to choose whichever one he wanted, he reached his hand into the bag and pulled out a red size 2 ball, perfect for a three-year-old. “¡Gracias, Esteban!” he said. I couldn’t help but smile at the moment as I rode up the elevator. I had brought 45 soccer balls and was only set to work with 38 kids total, so I knew dropping an extra for Ignacio wouldn’t be an issue at all.

I was set to run three days of programs with the kids of Puericultorio Perez Aranibar. Reaching out to youth aged 0-18, the facility cares for children from social services, from circumstances of abuse, those without parents, and more. They have around 180 kids right now, with a majority of them being young children. I believe in total, there were 32 boys aged 6 and up.

I had been in touch with a staff member, Andrea, for several weeks – even going as far as to have a video call during the early communication days in planning our sessions. She said the younger boys would love to have some soccer sessions, but the ones who truly needed the intervention most were the teenagers. Back then they weren’t able to study because of the pandemic, so their days were incredibly dull. Naturally, they were lacking the motivation to do really anything, and Andrea’s hope was that participating in soccer might give them something to do.

It was set, a three-day slate of programming – Friday afternoon with los jóvenes, the teens. Saturday morning with the younger boys (6+) followed by another with the teens. Then a final set on Sunday from 9-11 with the same two groups. Having run so many hour-long programs over the past year and change, I was thrilled at the prospect to have a total of 2-3 hours of sessions across the same number of days. It gives me an opportunity to slow things down a bit, hammer home more advanced techniques, as opposed to bouncing rapidly through program modules with a limited time window. The extra time also meant more time for scrimmages. This had always been my favorite part of practice growing up, and the most practical way to learn soccer is to play soccer. No better way to do that than a scrimmage!

I arrived at The Puericultorio on Thursday before our Friday session, to drop off soccer balls and to familiarize myself with the playing space. Andrea had mentioned a beautiful set of three turf fields, an exact copy of a plaza I had visited back in 2018. I was buzzing at the opportunity to play on the fields I could only enjoy from afar so long ago. As we turned the corner from the boy’s director – Maria Paz’s office, all I saw was dirt and mounds of it. Surrounded by two very lonely goal frames, sans nets. 

“Unfortunately, the company that made the turf fields, their contract expired and so they tore them all down. Just a few weeks ago too.” My heart sank a bit. “But we have this cancha over here,” Andrea said, gesturing to her right. It was a nice turf space with two 5-a-side nets at each end. More than usable, and far nicer than many other clinic venues. “Perfect!” I said.

Andrea toured me through the campus, to the computer room, living areas, and more – introducing me to some of the teenage boys in the process. They all peeked up from their computer screens to offer a greeting before hitting unpause on their Fortnite games. Sitting at one of the couches was another boy who Andrea had wanted to introduce me to. He was watching YouTube on a large television screen. She explained his situation, saying he had been feeling especially unmotivated as of late. 

“He wanted to become a barber, so we told him we would cover his schooling to learn cosmetology… but then he lost interest. He’s 17 and his latest career aspiration is to be a futbolista. But you know how difficult that is already being 17 and being without a team,” she continued.

“Si pero sabes that a career in football doesn’t necessarily have to take the form of a ‘footballer’. There are coaches and front office staff. I’ll try to mention something to him if I can,” I told Andrea, as she nodded in agreement and understanding.

Finally, it was time to head back to my apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Andrea, thanks again.”

“Good luck” she responded, seeming more a cautionary tale than anything, but I remained unphased.

Before I could think twice, four o’clock the next day had arrived. I showed up early, approximately 3:45 to set up, as the older boys and girls began to trickle in. We jumped into variations of our listening drill to kick off the session. It became immediately evident that the teens were definitely struggling with a lack of motivation. Some were enthused and engaged while others were just going through the motions, even barely doing that. Certain groups in the listening drill had zero sense of competition, it seemed almost like a race to see who would grab the ball last rather than first – with both parties somehow winning and losing simultaneously at that.

After a 50/50 challenge version of that, we jumped from into relay lines to work on dribbling and skill moves. We were beginning to see a bit more energy, but there was still very much left to be desired. Some kids zigzagged through the cones while others moved at a walking pace, unphased and uninterested in any sort of competition.

After that, we circled up for two rounds of mano o cabeza, which lightened the crowd up a bit. Sure, some were quiet as usual, but there were instances of cheering and playful jeering as players were eliminated, which was a nice change of pace from how the program had begun.

With two winners chosen, we broke into a scrimmage, where the older teens really had a chance to shine. One boy, Giovanni, who I was told was the most talented – was certainly a standout. Another, José, who I had been briefed about displaying good leadership qualities, was an absolute force in the net.

Giovanni and I shared several head-to-head duels, with him getting the better of me more times than not. As I said, the boy could ball! As he smashed in the game-winning golden goal, he walked straight off the pitch confidently before turning around and saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow Profe.”

I was excited to explore more ways to engage this group further the following day, and already had a few drills lined up to get them going but also work on key skills. As I bid farewell to Andrea, who would not be around during the weekend’s sessions, she shared another cautionary tale, one rooted in an experience I’m sure – “Get some rest tonight, you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

I was still stoked to work with the younger boys. They fall into my ideal participant age range, where kids are filled with energy and excitement, without having too much of an attitude yet. Ain’t nobody in that group who’s “too cool” to play some footy. After a 5 hour sleep, I rolled out of bed and headed to The Puericultorio.I popped into Maria Paz’s office, where all the soccer balls we had inflated lined the entire office floor. They were everywhere: behind chairs, under tables, and on top of couches.

Excitedly, some younger participants began to trickle into the office, quickly marveling at the mountain of soccer balls.

“Profe, are you going to give us these soccer balls?” one boy asked curiously.

“Who knows! You’ll have to wait and see,” I said with a smirk.

Meanwhile, another boy, Miguel, was sifting through the pile of balls, matching each one to a professional club team by its given color scheme. “Look Profe, this one is Juventus” as he pointed at a white and black one. 

“Barcelona” while pointing at a maroon jawn. 

“And Chelsea!” grabbing a blue Sondico ball in his hands. Miguel had been playing with a run-down ball outside the office when I arrived with some of the other boys. He was noticeably talented, enough so to compete and play with our older group – which he did end up doing.

As he matched the ball to the team, an even smaller boy held up a white and red number just like a trophy, “Look Profe, this one is Peru! ¡La sele!”

As we moved through our first session of the morning, the boys were all incredibly well-behaved and respectful. I had chosen a captain, also José to help out with the session and he quickly settled into the role. “Profe, this [the armband] is for me to keep?” 

“Si but make sure to bring it tomorrow to our next session too,” I replied.

In the middle of the drills the kids would ask me questions and I promise not every question was about whether or not they’d be getting new soccer balls lol. One boy stopped mid-drill and questioned, “Profi, from what country are you?” 

“Estados Unidos.”

“But why do you speak Spanish?” 

“So I can talk with you guys.” “Wow, Profe, and you just learned it? Just like that?” 

“¡Si!”

During our second session that day, I took out a set of bookmarks. Carefully accented with the colors of the Peruvian flag, with a soccer ball and a heart on the front, and the back left intentionally blank. I asked the group of teenagers if they could do me a favor, if they could write some words of wisdom or life advice on one side of the bookmarks, which we would be giving to the younger children the next day. As I described the reasoning to one of the group’s housemothers, she put it far more eloquently than I ever could. The words serve as a love letter to a younger version of self. Like what might you say to a younger version of you… Having lived through certain experiences, what do you wish you knew? What do you wish you had heard? 

“It’s like they’re writing from a chapter already closed, for a group just now beginning that same chapter themselves.”

Their messages were profound and meaningful, even though some might have been pulled directly from motivational quotes Google search, but others really did seem to be rooted in experience and reality. No matter what went into it, they were words that needed to be written and more so, words that needed to be read and be heard, no matter who was on the receiving end of them. I mean life is hard and we can always use a greeting or some well-wishes along the way.

• 

• 

• 

• 

“Your happiness matters to me.”

“Treat women the same way you would treat your own mothers,” one participant wrote. This one had me choked up.

“Your happiness transmits love”

“Follow the soccer ball, it will show you the way of life.”

“If you can dream it, you can achieve it.”

The session wrapped up and I headed back to Maria Paz’s office where my little homies were all waiting. They were all showing off the new bracelets that we had gifted them earlier in the day.

One boy, a goalkeeper, even traded a bracelet off his arm to me. A little pink pipe-cleaner bracelet, which I’m still wearing as I write this. 

With our sessions already done by 11, I was really just relaxing with the boys and Maria Paz. She asked me if I wanted to eat lunch with the boys at 1. 

“It’s chicken, rice, and peas if you’d like to join us?” she said.

To pass the time I decided to teach the small group some new tricks, including neck stalls and then push-ups and do it alongside them every step of the way. First, your back is as flat as possible, always with your eyes to the front, now with your brazos all the way up, to the sky, now like a chicken. Always with a lot of control, a lot of care, very slowly I said, guiding them through every step. 

I told one boy, “Today when I leave you to go and practice so when I come back tomorrow you’re already a professional.” He did three pushups with the ball on his neck that day and did as many as five the next! My boy!

After that, I watched as the boys tried on shoes from a big black garbage bag with cleats and tennis shoes. “Maria Paz, these are perfect for me!” 

One yelled while holding up a left Nike shoe with the other already on his foot. “I promise they are a perfect size.” 

Maria-Paz put her hands on the shoe by the boy’s toe and she could fit 3-4 fingers there before feeling any foot.

After that, I asked the boys if they would give me their signatures on a jersey I brought with me. As I took out a brand new Peru jersey from my backpack, one boy yelled,“Profe, I have one too! Look!” Turning around to show off the Peru jersey he was wearing. Another boy yelled, “Wow! Guerrero! Mine is Cueva.”

“Profe, that’s your jersey? Is it real?” I turned to Maria Paz. “I mean as real as one that cost 35 soles can be,” I said, as we shared a chuckle.

In the background, I heard the goalkeeper singing “Maria Paz, Maria Pa-Pa-Paz! Maria Paz, Maria Pa-Pa-Paz!” with intent to annoy her, but certainly being cute enough to have the reverse effect.

I headed back to my flat, ready for our final day of sessions the next morning. I was going to try to fit everything in but knew that we’d have a jam-packed schedule with the bookmarks, more bracelets, and soccer balls to give out. I figured half the session alone would have to be devoted to all of that. As I dropped back on campus for the 9 AM session, Jose flashed me a big smile. He turned his body and revealed his left arm. 

“Look Profe” he said, pointing to the red armband I had instructed him to wear.

Later on in the session, I noticed José had removed his captain’s band and gave it to another boy with autism to wear – Leo. He had been in the small group learning neck stalls with me the day before. The gesture itself made my heart big happy though. That’s my captain.

That session wrapped up with the boys all sitting patiently in front of me before receiving a bookmark. Noticing we had a few extras, I turned to two of the house fathers – Juan José and Willian and offered them a bracelet and a ball of their own, which they graciously accepted with a smile in the same manner as the kids they work with.

The boys all shared some words about things they learned, or just words of thanks and gratitude, before departing with a string of high fives and hugs. One boy even made up his own handshake with me. 

Our second session would be condensed too, in order to distribute balls, so we jumped straight into it. We had a one on one drill that I ran for a bit before participating myself. I wanted to go against Giovanni so we lined up next to each other with great anticipation. The whistle blew, and the ball was rolled out in front of the two of us. The chase was on. I arrived first to the left of it, with Giovanni trailing close behind over my right. I caught him mid-stride and tapped the ball to my right, passing it through his front and trailing leg. Almost instinctively, he gasped and his hands rose to his face. I collected the ball and didn’t even continue the drill. “For me, that is even better than a goal,” I said to him with a laugh and a wink.

I went back to running the drill before Giovanni called me out, “Come on, Profe! One more time, me versus you – for revenge!”

This time, he got the better of me and pushed it into the back of the net, which I rewarded with applause and a high five. Game recognize game! To close things out, we had a fun one with José in goal. Crosses from the corners met with acrobatic volleys and headers. Everyone wanted to score a Chilena, with Miguel getting the closest, followed shortly behind by Giovanni..

The teens patiently waited as I thanked them for their time and for the messages for the younger kids before revealing a pile of soccer balls. They waited their turn and carefully chose their favorites of the bunch, making sure to say thank you afterward. After that, I headed back to the office to chat with Maria Paz and some of the house parents.

Maria Paz spent four years volunteering at the Puericultorio, spending lots of time with the little babies then now one year working.

“How do you like it? Of course, it’s an obra de amor, right?”

“I love it,” she responded.

Later that day, I called an Uber to go to the airport. I was exhausted after a busy three-day schedule of programs, but I was more than content with how things had played out.

For thirty minutes, my driver and I chopped it up about footy. Club teams, national teams, Peru’s recent loss to Argentina in World Cup qualifying following a botched penalty kick attempt, the USA’s efforts to avoid a repeat of 2018’s mess of a qualifying cycle, and more. He knew his stuff, this guy. We talked about MLS, Peruvian players in our league, and even Americans abroad. He brought up the Brazilian league at one point even. I asked him if Peru had a league, to which he nodded his head. 

“Is it any good?” 

“Mas o menos,” he said before adding, “Pero menos que más” which we both shared a deep laugh at. 

As I dropped him a tip and he wished me a safe trip, I told him, “Hope to see you in the World Cup my bro!”

“See you in the quarterfinals, the USA vs Peru my friend!”

Just like that, similar to the first interaction I had in a country so near and dear to my heart and Around the Worlds’ story, it was back on a flight, back to the states, back to new soccer balls, new programs, new kids, and new places.