Carolina Leaps for the Stars /ON HOLD/

Chapter 1: The Letter

"I'm going to miss you so much! I can't believe you might actually be moving to Toronto to study at a Dance Academy," Rosalina wailed in my ears for what seemed like the hundredth time this evening.

Except, I knew she kept repeating it because it sounded too good to be true. See, Rosa and I were from a place rich in rainforests, tropical birds and the juiciest mangoes on earth. We were street girls.

So, leaving the city truly felt like something out of a fairy tale. But I knew that I'd always take a piece of my beloved country, Colombia, with me wherever I went. Still, I understood the tears in my eyes and the way Rosa and my little brother Carlos were clinging onto me. My mamá, uncle, aunt and cousins however, were holding onto each other, passing around tissues and being their usual dramatic selves.

Seriously though, it feels like I'm living in a real life telenovela. But I get it. I mean this is a huge opportunity for me to become the dancer I know I can be. After falling in love with dance as a three year old, I can say that dance became the oxygen to my life.

When I was young, I always helped Mama Alvares, my mamá, around the house and studied hard in school to be able to dance in my free time. Eventually, I got a job at my mom's local fruit shop when I was 12 years old so I could pay for local dance classes.

Fast-forwarding to the juicy part of the story,  when the time came for me to choose a university, I knew I could not primarily pursue dance, because I would most likely never make a living out of it. So, in addition to applying to local universities, I sent in my application and audition tape to Toronto's annual "International CNCA Recruitment contest".

The contest runs every year hosted by Canada's National Dance Academy in Toronto, one of the top 10 educational establishments for the performing arts in the entire world. The academy focuses on three main divisions: Music, Dance and Drama. In just 20 years, CNCA established itself as a leader in arts education by training and giving birth to gifted musicians, dancers, singers and actors that I seriously admire like Jim Carrey, Kelly Clarkson, Blake McGrath, Kaytranada and Rachel McAdams.

Basically, it's a prestigious art school I probably had no business applying to.

Anyway, each year CNCA picked the top three dancers in 10 countries around the world, one of which is Colombia, a question of diversifying the students in their expensive dance program. Then, the selected candidates have to audition in person. From there, one student from each country is chosen to receive a one year scholarship to CNCA, with the possibility of extension based on performance.

While competing for a spot I thought I could never get, I did the next best thing--I studied social work at the Universidad Nacional de Colombia in Bogota, fully taking advantage of the discounted ballet dance classes next door, of course.

Eventually the application slipped my mind. On top of that, the thought of leaving my small city, Bello, was one of the hardest things to consider. You see, Bello was beautiful but damaged. Children often roamed free and many families were broken apart by politics and violence, which in turn broke my heart.  My dad and I both felt that it was our duty to save them.

See, my papá, who shared the same passion for social work as me, many times tried to rescue children at night from their abusive homes, and bring them to the local shelter. Almost everyone in the city knew and loved papá. He was smart, brave and fair, and always tried to help those in need. But make no mistake, he had a fair share of enemies.

This led to the second hardest thing that I've ever had to go through.

On one of his rescue nights-- my papá was helping three children escape their abusive home. One of the children was very young and cried loudly when papá tried to put her in the car. It woke up their father who shot mine two times. My dad was hit with one bullet to his head and one straight into his pure heart.

When I heard the news, I was devastated.  I wasted no time putting my studies aside in Bogota and came back home to mourn our family and neighbourhood's loss. Mamá, Carlos and I took the loss extremely hard even though we knew that the kind of work he was doing was risky.

At least I can say that my papá died for love. A true hero.

Before I knew it, days turned into weeks. And weeks turned into months. I eventually quit my studies and arranged for my cousin Hernando to return my things from Bogota. I moved back in with my mamá, much to her disapproval. She wanted me to keep dancing and studying, but I would hear nothing of it.

We needed each other and my studies could wait. Besides, I was helping out at the shelter and was back working at the shop with my mamá.

Then one day...

"Mija! ¡Ven aquí!", my mom called for me from the kitchen, while I was dance-cleaning the bathroom to J. Balvin's Safari.

"I'm almost done cleaning the bathroom mamá," I yelled back.

And that's when she barged in anyway and started jumping up and down in excitement. She began speaking to me so fast, whilst brandishing a piece of paper in the air, that I couldn't understand a single word of what she was telling me.

"Mamá please, por favor, calm down. What is it?" I asked.

Instead of answering me, she shoved the paper in my hands and started thanking Jesus.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly scanned the letter:

"Dear Ms. Alvares,

The Dance Division faculty has reviewed your pre-screening materials and audition tape..blabla...in-person audition for...blabla...Training Program...

I am delighted to inform you that you have been selected... blabla..."

Wait.

Holy crap! 

I wiped my eyes and started reading the letter again--this time very slowly:

"Dear Ms.Alvares,

The Dance Division faculty has reviewed your pre-screening materials and audition tape. We would like to invite you for an in-person meeting and audition for possible admission to Canada's National Contemporary Dance Academy's Dance Program.

I am delighted to inform you that you have been selected for a chance to represent Colombia at CNCA. To accept this offer please call..."

I read the letter five times, with tears streaming down my face.

And then, I threw it up in the air and screamed while hugging my mom. The commotion woke Carlos from his nap, but when I told him the news, we all danced, cried and hugged each other in the middle of a partially cleaned bathroom.

What happened next was honestly a blur. I worked my ass off at the shop for months to help me earn enough money for the trip. Since my mamá  couldn't help me pay for the flight tickets, I emptied my life savings and used it for that and everything else including a passport, government documents, clothes and a small emergency fund.

Hopefully, this one-way ticket wouldn't have to become a round-trip ticket because it took 227 dance practices in the living room, 56 visits from family members, 23 forms, seven months and a suitcase later, for me to be standing here in El Dorado International Airport.

I was feeling blessed, thankful, but most importantly, ready to earn my spot at CNCA in Toronto.