How Losing a Scholarship Led a Russian Swimmer to Teach English in Colombia

This is a story about Artum Dzun, a Bethel University graduate.

McKENZIE (May 4) — I arrived at Bethel University as a dedicated Russian student, set to be part of the Bethel Swimming team. Then, in May 2024, my world flipped: the university eliminated the swimming program. My athletic scholarship vanished, and after having passed all the acceptance hurdles, I was left scrambling to figure out how to afford tuition. What was next? I’d spent 13 years swimming, and now, it was over. This sudden chaos was profoundly sobering, forcing me to map out the next few years of my life overnight. Should I transfer? Should I return to Russia? Did I even want to swim anymore? After wrestling with these questions, I decided to stay at Bethel—a decision that turned out to be one of the best of my life.

I discovered Bethel University's Global Studies in August 2024. Since the university kindly honored my existing scholarship for at least a year, I wanted to use it for a semester abroad. I love traveling, and Global Studies, directed by Mrs. Stacie Freeman, seemed like the perfect opportunity to explore the world. My journey began when I reached out to her. When I quickly realized the travel abroad was financially impossible because my scholarship was non-transferable, Mrs. Stacie casually mentioned various volunteer travel programs to places I had only dreamed of: South America, Northern Europe, and East Asia. For an average Russian, countries like Brazil and Colombia felt worlds away, starkly different from the perceived "coldness" and seriousness of Russian culture. After weighing all the pros and cons, I committed to an educational volunteer trip to Cali, Colombia, in May 2025, where I would teach English for a week at a local school, Colegio Americano. With Mrs. Stacie’s help in securing scholarships, I was ready to go.

After the Spring 2025 semester ended, I packed my bags and headed to the Nashville airport, uncertain of what awaited me. I was the only international student in a group of 15, knowing only our trip leader and advisor, Mr. Garrett Burns, who serves as chaplain at Bethel. The thought of "working" with children made me nervous—you always hear about the potential cruelty of kids—but I was so wrong. My first impression of Colombia was the stunning view of the mountains on the drive from Cali airport to the hotel. I was glued to the window, absorbing the indescribable panorama. Passing through small Colombian towns, the vivid architecture, local people, lush green grass, and palm trees made it feel like stepping into an adventure movie set in a tropical forest.

The program was voluntary, and the irony wasn't lost on me: a Russian student, who had only learned English himself two years ago, was now an English teacher! However, this actually proved to be an advantage. We arrived at the school, Colegio Americano, on Monday morning. Following a warm welcome event, I was assigned to the 10th grade. I didn’t know what to expect from students who were just a couple of years younger than me, but my teacher advisor, Roberto, quickly put me at ease. He was supportive, gave me a prep talk, and shared insights on the cultural differences between Colombia, Russia, and the U.S.

When classes began, the students were extremely interested in me, the Russian guy teaching English, studying in the US. As I started my presentation, my nervousness dissolved. The children were incredibly attentive, asking a million questions about Russian culture, cities, and even naming Russian athletes and celebrities they knew. I spoke Russian to them, and I was genuinely shocked by how much they knew about my far-away home. The rest of the week flowed smoothly: teaching in the morning, sightseeing in Cali in the afternoon. Though I was exhausted from waking up at 6 A.M. every day, I enjoyed every moment endlessly.

Throughout the week, we held conversations in English on topics such as mental health, biology, and geography. I conducted small tests on vocabulary and speaking level. During one of my lessons, a boy asked me, "Can you please speak slower?" That small, simple question was a moment of profound realization: I was in their exact place when I was learning the language. Living in the USA, I had completely forgotten the struggle of not understanding. I was comfortable now, but those students were in the middle of their journey. Remembering what it was like deeply affected how I taught and allowed me to help them from a more empathetic perspective.

Outside of the classroom, our group did extensive sightseeing. We visited Cristo Rey, a massive statue of Jesus (where I learned it’s not unique to Rio), explored historical museums, went hiking, and learned to dance Salsa Celeña with Swing Latino, earning Cali its title as La Capital Mundial de la Salsa. I have to pinpoint the food: both in the school cafeteria and in general, it was surprisingly similar to what I ate in school back in Russia—various soups unpopular in the States, and even candy and drinks I used to buy in 6th grade. Who would have thought Colombia and Russia shared so many similarities?

Over time, our whole group became true friends, sharing our cultural shocks, laughter, and personal growth. We all became more patient and attentive. This experience truly broadened my horizons, changed my outlook, and made me value what I have. Only through travel do you realize how vast the world is, and how much there is to see, eat, and experience.

Ultimately, the decision to stay at Bethel after my swimming career was cut led me straight to Cali. While it didn't replace swimming, had I transferred, I wouldn't have been able to graduate in three years or go on the trip to Ireland and Scotland in March 2026. Instead, by staying, I formed enduring friendships and gained a new perspective on life. Every downfall truly is an opportunity for a new takeoff. You never know what awaits you—and that, I believe, is the true beauty of life.

Artum has contributed stories to The Banner in recent weeks. Those stories were about international students — his contemporaries at the University.