Greetings from the surface of the sun. It's been a while (is awhile a word, or is it necessary to divide it in two?) since I updated my blog, again I will shamelessly use the old "I have no access to the internet where I live" excuse. I'm in Asuncion today because I'm playing tonight in a benefit concert, with other Peace Corps bands and some Paraguayan groups too. It's no Farm Aid or anything, but it should be a good time.
Life is good in site. Last week was the annual festival of the Virgin of Caacupe, a 9-day event attended by 3 million Paraguayans (half of the country's population). The tradition is to walk to Caacupe to honor the Virgin, but we sort of cheated and took a bus halfway there. We still had to walk about 20K though, nothing to sneeze at. The festival is supposedly a religious event, but with hundreds of thousands of people present the cathedral and the happenings there receive little attention. The rest of it is a giant market, with hundreds of food and souvenir vendors. It's sort of like a State Fair. My sister would have loved it.
Work is rolling, too, slowly but surely. My friend Hugo and I are making a bee smoker, and the tree planting project is rolling along steadily. Hopefully we'll get some seedlings in the ground by March or April, if the municipality gives us the funds we need.
Hope everyone is enjoying the cold weather, I sure miss it. Peace...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
My New Site
Friends,
I´ve been in my new site, Acuña de Figueroa, for about two weeks now. It´s a beautiful place located about two hours from Asunción. I´m living, for now, with a host family, and my host brother is also my principal work contact. His name´s Fernando, and he´s a beekeeper and a great guy.
The first few months of service are about getting to know one´s site, talking to people, making friends, getting a sense of what the community´s interests and needs are. Fernando´s been taking me around to meet neighbors, attending community group meetings (a young persons´ group and a farmer´s committee, for example); and I spent much of my time in the first week preparing and planting a vegetable garden. This week, though, it´s been raining cats and dogs (note: I said that in Spanish and Fernando thought it was a ridiculous phrase. When you think about it, it really is.) and I´m afraid my plants are drowning... luckily Paraguayan soil is really sandy and drains well.
The group of jovenes (young people, mostly high school age) and I are tentatively planning a big tree-planting project: Acuña is all dirt roads, but there is a big road construction project going on now, and in the process lots of trees were cut. We want to plant trees on both sides of the roads throughout the community. It would be a big project, but a worthy one, and the group really seems to be excited about it. I´ll keep you guys posted.
That´s all for now. There´s no internet in my site, so I will be checking e-mail and making updates probably with less frequency than in Bolivia, but I´ll do my best.
Finally, please note the disclaimer at the right column which affirms that my comments do not necessarily reflect the position of the Peace Corps, etc. etc.....
OBAMA!!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I´ve been in my new site, Acuña de Figueroa, for about two weeks now. It´s a beautiful place located about two hours from Asunción. I´m living, for now, with a host family, and my host brother is also my principal work contact. His name´s Fernando, and he´s a beekeeper and a great guy.
The first few months of service are about getting to know one´s site, talking to people, making friends, getting a sense of what the community´s interests and needs are. Fernando´s been taking me around to meet neighbors, attending community group meetings (a young persons´ group and a farmer´s committee, for example); and I spent much of my time in the first week preparing and planting a vegetable garden. This week, though, it´s been raining cats and dogs (note: I said that in Spanish and Fernando thought it was a ridiculous phrase. When you think about it, it really is.) and I´m afraid my plants are drowning... luckily Paraguayan soil is really sandy and drains well.
The group of jovenes (young people, mostly high school age) and I are tentatively planning a big tree-planting project: Acuña is all dirt roads, but there is a big road construction project going on now, and in the process lots of trees were cut. We want to plant trees on both sides of the roads throughout the community. It would be a big project, but a worthy one, and the group really seems to be excited about it. I´ll keep you guys posted.
That´s all for now. There´s no internet in my site, so I will be checking e-mail and making updates probably with less frequency than in Bolivia, but I´ll do my best.
Finally, please note the disclaimer at the right column which affirms that my comments do not necessarily reflect the position of the Peace Corps, etc. etc.....
OBAMA!!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Safe, Sweaty and Happy in the Paraguay
Hey all. A couple of weeks of R & R on the home front were excellent. It was great to see my people again, drink bourbon whiskey, laugh and cringe at Sarah Palin, sit down at Heine Bros. and listen to the schizophrenic bearded guy pontificate... just like old times. Now, back to work.
I arrived in Paraguay last Thursday and it is hot here. Ridiculously hot. In fact, the other day I actually had a CSNY ¨Almost cut my hair¨ moment. (But I didn´t, and I wonder why, I feel the need to let my freak flag fly...) Anyway Paraguay is gorgeous, in a completely different way from Bolivia. Gone are the striking mountains, the vibrant indigenous Quechua culture; but here it is green and lush, the soil is brick red, and everyone just sits around and drinks cold tea all afternoon. It is beautiful and I am happy to be here.
Fellow Bolivia PCVs Andy and Natalie arrived with me, and the three of us have a two-week intensive orientation. We`re getting an intro to Guaraní, the indigenous language spoken by 97% of the Paraguayan population, as well as technical classes in our respective fields. I`m staying with a very nice host family -- incidentally, my host dad looks like my Pappy and even has a belly scar like Pappy did, from an emergency surgery last year. (I know, only a few days and he`s already showing you his belly scars? He walks around without his shirt on a lot. Did I mention it`s hot here?)
Paraguay`s agriculture program is impressive. Their crop extension program includes some really neat techniques, like green manures and contour planting, which I`m excited to try out in site. But the beekeeping component is the coolest part: In Bolivia, my biggest frustration as a beekeeping volunteer was that the modern Langstroth hives we were trained to work with are expensive, and require a lot of costly inputs. As a result, it is very difficult to work with poorer folks in the campo that can`t afford that equipment, unless one applies for a grant (and even that is restrictive, since your grant will probably only cover a few individuals). But Paraguay`s beekeeping program also trains volunteers in construction of Kenya Top Bar Hives (KTBH), which with a decent saw can be made locally, from most forms of sturdy wood. The Beekeeping Extension program also trains PCVs in construction of smokers from materials like tin condensed-milk cans, and bee veils from plastic netting and fabric. The bottom line is that Paraguay`s focus on low-input technology makes it possible for anyone who`s interested to participate, not just those who can afford the equipment or the few invited to be included in a project. Key word in Peace Corps: Sustainability. Check.
Sorry to ramble on, for those of you who are skimming just know I am safe and healthy, and looking forward to these next 18 months.
I guess it`s a strange decision, after being pulled out of Bolivia, to sign on for another year-plus in another South American country. What can I say? I guess I`m a Maverick.
In fact, one might say that the 3 of us Bolivia-Paraguay PCVs are a team of mavericks.
Peace.
Que viva la Pachamama,
que viva Cuerpo de Paz,
que viva mi patria Bolivia,
y que viva el Paraguay.
I arrived in Paraguay last Thursday and it is hot here. Ridiculously hot. In fact, the other day I actually had a CSNY ¨Almost cut my hair¨ moment. (But I didn´t, and I wonder why, I feel the need to let my freak flag fly...) Anyway Paraguay is gorgeous, in a completely different way from Bolivia. Gone are the striking mountains, the vibrant indigenous Quechua culture; but here it is green and lush, the soil is brick red, and everyone just sits around and drinks cold tea all afternoon. It is beautiful and I am happy to be here.
Fellow Bolivia PCVs Andy and Natalie arrived with me, and the three of us have a two-week intensive orientation. We`re getting an intro to Guaraní, the indigenous language spoken by 97% of the Paraguayan population, as well as technical classes in our respective fields. I`m staying with a very nice host family -- incidentally, my host dad looks like my Pappy and even has a belly scar like Pappy did, from an emergency surgery last year. (I know, only a few days and he`s already showing you his belly scars? He walks around without his shirt on a lot. Did I mention it`s hot here?)
Paraguay`s agriculture program is impressive. Their crop extension program includes some really neat techniques, like green manures and contour planting, which I`m excited to try out in site. But the beekeeping component is the coolest part: In Bolivia, my biggest frustration as a beekeeping volunteer was that the modern Langstroth hives we were trained to work with are expensive, and require a lot of costly inputs. As a result, it is very difficult to work with poorer folks in the campo that can`t afford that equipment, unless one applies for a grant (and even that is restrictive, since your grant will probably only cover a few individuals). But Paraguay`s beekeeping program also trains volunteers in construction of Kenya Top Bar Hives (KTBH), which with a decent saw can be made locally, from most forms of sturdy wood. The Beekeeping Extension program also trains PCVs in construction of smokers from materials like tin condensed-milk cans, and bee veils from plastic netting and fabric. The bottom line is that Paraguay`s focus on low-input technology makes it possible for anyone who`s interested to participate, not just those who can afford the equipment or the few invited to be included in a project. Key word in Peace Corps: Sustainability. Check.
Sorry to ramble on, for those of you who are skimming just know I am safe and healthy, and looking forward to these next 18 months.
I guess it`s a strange decision, after being pulled out of Bolivia, to sign on for another year-plus in another South American country. What can I say? I guess I`m a Maverick.
In fact, one might say that the 3 of us Bolivia-Paraguay PCVs are a team of mavericks.
Peace.
Que viva la Pachamama,
que viva Cuerpo de Paz,
que viva mi patria Bolivia,
y que viva el Paraguay.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Uncertain Roads
My head is spinning.
On the morning of Sept. 11, I was getting ready to make the 2-hour bike trip to visit Don Vicente's bees. His wife was out of town, which meant he was alone at home and forced to cook for himself: He thus had asked me to bring some eggs, so we could have something to eat. Around the world we men are helpless without women. I put the eggs in a ziploc, wrapped the ziploc in a towel and tucked the bundle away in my backpack, praying that at least a few would survive the bumpy ride to Vicente's. Unfortunately, I never got there.
I called Peace Corps to check in, because they had activated the Emergency Action Plan a day earlier. Since the EAP had been called already some seven times since I arrived to Bolivia, I wasn't too concerned. But, as it turned out, this time was different: Violence had erupted in Santa Cruz, Tarija, Pando and La Paz; Bolivian President Evo Morales accused the American ambassador, Philip Goldberg, of fomenting the violence by meeting with opposition departamental governors; Goldberg was thus declared persona non grata and ordered to leave the country. My bosses told me I was not allowed to leave my site, and to remain on standby until further notice.
At 4:30 p.m. my neighbor told me I had received an urgent call from Peace Corps. I called the central office in Cochabamba, and was told I must immediately get on a bus to Sucre, because all volunteers were to be consolidated in Coch. the following day. This left me about two hours to buy a bus ticket, say a few rushed, uncertain goodbyes and pack my things.
I was pretty certain it was over then. Unfortunately my best buddy Jorge was out of town at this time, and my counterpart Valerio was out working construction, so I wasn't able to give them the news or say goodbye. But my friend Valentina accompanied me while I packed my things and waited for the bus, and she knew from my face how serious the situation was. I got on the bus as the sun fell, put on my headphones to listen to one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn songs:
There's roads and there's roads, and they're calling, can't you hear it
Roads of the earth and roads of the spirit
The best roads of all are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me till they drop the big curtain
Hear the wind moan in the bright diamond sky
These mountains are calling, brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term, but I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind till the end of my days
I looked out the bus window and saw the glow of an adobe stove, burning in someone's home across the river. From the circular opening in the stove, the fire glowed in a perfect disk, and I imagined it was that family's own little sun. Then the bus turned a corner and it was dark again.
We stayed in Cochabamba for a few days, and then on the 14th we were flown in a military C-130 to Lima, Peru. Once all the volunteers had arrived safely a day or so later, we were finally told the news: Peace Corps Bolivia had been suspended, and our service was over.
We were given a few options: 1) Close our service in good standing and return to the US; 2) opt to wait a few months and re-enroll for another 27 months in another country; or 3) apply for a spot to transfer directly to another post. A team of 9 Peace Corps staff members from Washington was flown in to organize this process. With 113 confused, frustrated, and demanding Peace Corps Volunteers to deal with, it was a bit complicated. But, more than a week later, our futures seem to be clear. Here's what I decided:
After eight months in Bolivia, things were actually starting to feel pretty good. I was becoming comfortable in my site, Sopachuy, had made some great friends, and the work was starting to make sense. The experience was just starting and I am not ready for it to be over. But I am also honestly not ready to commit to another 27 months. Thus I applied and was accepted to transfer to a program in Paraguay, where I will finish the remaining 18 months of my service working in their agriculture and beekeeping program.
The program starts October 8th, and Peace Corps has kindly offered to fly us all home to the US first, to wait for medical clearance and visa details to go through. So it looks like I'll be making an unexpected visit to the Ville for a week or so, to see family and friends, have a beer at Cumberland Brews, and get mentally ready for this next test.
It's been a tough couple of weeks, man. It was not easy to say goodbye to Sopachuy, and to all of my wonderful PCV friends. But all of this was out of my control, so I will try to accept it and look forward. And, despite everything, I am truly grateful for the experience in Bolivia. I don't regret anything.
See you guys soon.
On the morning of Sept. 11, I was getting ready to make the 2-hour bike trip to visit Don Vicente's bees. His wife was out of town, which meant he was alone at home and forced to cook for himself: He thus had asked me to bring some eggs, so we could have something to eat. Around the world we men are helpless without women. I put the eggs in a ziploc, wrapped the ziploc in a towel and tucked the bundle away in my backpack, praying that at least a few would survive the bumpy ride to Vicente's. Unfortunately, I never got there.
I called Peace Corps to check in, because they had activated the Emergency Action Plan a day earlier. Since the EAP had been called already some seven times since I arrived to Bolivia, I wasn't too concerned. But, as it turned out, this time was different: Violence had erupted in Santa Cruz, Tarija, Pando and La Paz; Bolivian President Evo Morales accused the American ambassador, Philip Goldberg, of fomenting the violence by meeting with opposition departamental governors; Goldberg was thus declared persona non grata and ordered to leave the country. My bosses told me I was not allowed to leave my site, and to remain on standby until further notice.
At 4:30 p.m. my neighbor told me I had received an urgent call from Peace Corps. I called the central office in Cochabamba, and was told I must immediately get on a bus to Sucre, because all volunteers were to be consolidated in Coch. the following day. This left me about two hours to buy a bus ticket, say a few rushed, uncertain goodbyes and pack my things.
I was pretty certain it was over then. Unfortunately my best buddy Jorge was out of town at this time, and my counterpart Valerio was out working construction, so I wasn't able to give them the news or say goodbye. But my friend Valentina accompanied me while I packed my things and waited for the bus, and she knew from my face how serious the situation was. I got on the bus as the sun fell, put on my headphones to listen to one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn songs:
There's roads and there's roads, and they're calling, can't you hear it
Roads of the earth and roads of the spirit
The best roads of all are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me till they drop the big curtain
Hear the wind moan in the bright diamond sky
These mountains are calling, brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term, but I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind till the end of my days
I looked out the bus window and saw the glow of an adobe stove, burning in someone's home across the river. From the circular opening in the stove, the fire glowed in a perfect disk, and I imagined it was that family's own little sun. Then the bus turned a corner and it was dark again.
We stayed in Cochabamba for a few days, and then on the 14th we were flown in a military C-130 to Lima, Peru. Once all the volunteers had arrived safely a day or so later, we were finally told the news: Peace Corps Bolivia had been suspended, and our service was over.
We were given a few options: 1) Close our service in good standing and return to the US; 2) opt to wait a few months and re-enroll for another 27 months in another country; or 3) apply for a spot to transfer directly to another post. A team of 9 Peace Corps staff members from Washington was flown in to organize this process. With 113 confused, frustrated, and demanding Peace Corps Volunteers to deal with, it was a bit complicated. But, more than a week later, our futures seem to be clear. Here's what I decided:
After eight months in Bolivia, things were actually starting to feel pretty good. I was becoming comfortable in my site, Sopachuy, had made some great friends, and the work was starting to make sense. The experience was just starting and I am not ready for it to be over. But I am also honestly not ready to commit to another 27 months. Thus I applied and was accepted to transfer to a program in Paraguay, where I will finish the remaining 18 months of my service working in their agriculture and beekeeping program.
The program starts October 8th, and Peace Corps has kindly offered to fly us all home to the US first, to wait for medical clearance and visa details to go through. So it looks like I'll be making an unexpected visit to the Ville for a week or so, to see family and friends, have a beer at Cumberland Brews, and get mentally ready for this next test.
It's been a tough couple of weeks, man. It was not easy to say goodbye to Sopachuy, and to all of my wonderful PCV friends. But all of this was out of my control, so I will try to accept it and look forward. And, despite everything, I am truly grateful for the experience in Bolivia. I don't regret anything.
See you guys soon.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Consolidation: Relax and Refocus
Can it be September already? It seems like I just got off the plane in La Paz, clueless, scared and nursing an altitude headache. But that was seven months ago. Of course, when your work day is not ¨9:15-10:15 class, 10:25-11:55 meeting, 12-12:45 lunch...¨ but is rather composed of la mañana and la tarde (always with a siesta in between), time passes rather quickly.
It was an unusual August. Here in Bolivia there was a referendum election on Evo Morales´ presidency, and Peace Corps Washington was worried about possible civil unrest. So they consolidated all of PC Bolivia- 120 volunteers, plus staff - in the Rio Selva resort outside of Santa Cruz. The Rio Selva was easily the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in: Well-furnished cabins, pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room, basketball and volleyball courts, waiters who only take your plate away when you line up your fork and knife just so atop your plate. Needless to say, when I applied for Peace Corps, a swim-up bar was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I wasn´t paying (thanks, American taxpayers!), so I certainly wasn´t complaining, either. Of course, the staff lined up a full schedule of meetings and classes, but we also had time to relax. There were also evening events, including an open-mic night: My friend Jackie and I did a cool version of ¨Oh Susanna,¨ and later I played my tune ¨Well-wisher¨ (those who have heard this angsty justice-as-personal-responsibility manifesto can imagine that it went over well with a crowd of Peace Corps volunteers). There was even a cross-dressing dance: Conveniently I forgot to take pictures, just imagine the repercussions for my 2028 presidential run.
It was good to see everyone from my training class again, and also to meet some of the volunteers from earlier groups. Talking to other PCVs is almost always a therapeutic experience: We often chat with one another about the challenges and frustrations we are facing. The Peace Corps experience can be stressful, and just the ability to empathize with someone in a similar situation is helpful and necessary. It helps you to realize that you are not crazy, or alone. As one songwriter observed, one of the most comforting phrases we have is ¨me, too.¨ Equally encouraging was the opportunity to meet some of the more experienced volunteers, who have overcome the initial growing pains and are now comfortable, successful PCVs.
Along with being a nice break (and a huge expense for Peace Corps - the elections passed without serious incidents), consolidation was a chance to refocus and plan for the next few months in Sopachuy. I´ve been back in site now for a couple of weeks, and am starting to branch out a little more: Making worm compost with a local girls´ school, learning play racquetball (surprisingly, a very popular sport in Bolivia), planning visits to the campo with beekeepers and farmers.
After four months in site, I have gotten my bearings and am settling in. I have a feeling these next few months will be more productive, and tranquilo (assuming the political situation remains stable). Of course, there will be some surprises. But I´m looking forward to those, too.
Best wishes to all in the Ville. Rocks, BEAT ST. X. Everybody watch the presidential debates and then go vote. (For change.) Peace!
It was an unusual August. Here in Bolivia there was a referendum election on Evo Morales´ presidency, and Peace Corps Washington was worried about possible civil unrest. So they consolidated all of PC Bolivia- 120 volunteers, plus staff - in the Rio Selva resort outside of Santa Cruz. The Rio Selva was easily the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in: Well-furnished cabins, pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room, basketball and volleyball courts, waiters who only take your plate away when you line up your fork and knife just so atop your plate. Needless to say, when I applied for Peace Corps, a swim-up bar was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I wasn´t paying (thanks, American taxpayers!), so I certainly wasn´t complaining, either. Of course, the staff lined up a full schedule of meetings and classes, but we also had time to relax. There were also evening events, including an open-mic night: My friend Jackie and I did a cool version of ¨Oh Susanna,¨ and later I played my tune ¨Well-wisher¨ (those who have heard this angsty justice-as-personal-responsibility manifesto can imagine that it went over well with a crowd of Peace Corps volunteers). There was even a cross-dressing dance: Conveniently I forgot to take pictures, just imagine the repercussions for my 2028 presidential run.
It was good to see everyone from my training class again, and also to meet some of the volunteers from earlier groups. Talking to other PCVs is almost always a therapeutic experience: We often chat with one another about the challenges and frustrations we are facing. The Peace Corps experience can be stressful, and just the ability to empathize with someone in a similar situation is helpful and necessary. It helps you to realize that you are not crazy, or alone. As one songwriter observed, one of the most comforting phrases we have is ¨me, too.¨ Equally encouraging was the opportunity to meet some of the more experienced volunteers, who have overcome the initial growing pains and are now comfortable, successful PCVs.
Along with being a nice break (and a huge expense for Peace Corps - the elections passed without serious incidents), consolidation was a chance to refocus and plan for the next few months in Sopachuy. I´ve been back in site now for a couple of weeks, and am starting to branch out a little more: Making worm compost with a local girls´ school, learning play racquetball (surprisingly, a very popular sport in Bolivia), planning visits to the campo with beekeepers and farmers.
After four months in site, I have gotten my bearings and am settling in. I have a feeling these next few months will be more productive, and tranquilo (assuming the political situation remains stable). Of course, there will be some surprises. But I´m looking forward to those, too.
Best wishes to all in the Ville. Rocks, BEAT ST. X. Everybody watch the presidential debates and then go vote. (For change.) Peace!
Monday, August 4, 2008
This is Sopachuy
Hey all. Sorry for the delay in photos. Enjoy...
I live in a very ugly place.
Me and my pueblo.
Slovak volunteer Barbora and me in the new forage garden.
Siesta.
Whoa.
My two best friends in Bolivia: PCV Ben and Sopachueño Jorge.
Jorge testing out the honey shampoo on my domepiece in my kitchen (behind, PCV Lebo and Sopachuy Slovak volunteer Barbora). I insisted on being the guinea pig in case the stuff made your hair fall out. It did not.
The main plaza in Sopachuy.
Our stand at the Sopachuy Agricultural Fair, where we sold honey shampoo, lip balm, propolis and honey. The guys in the hats are my work partners Vicente (left) and Valerio. Thursday, July 31, 2008
An Act of Cultural Arrogance?
Mil disculpas for the delayed update. Excuses: We were busy getting ready for the Feria, and then really not too much has happened in the last couple of weeks. We are in the heart of the dry season, and the bees are not doing much of anything because of a lack of nectar flow.
The forage crops garden is coming along relatively well, although I made a tactical error in planting: Some of the seeds we planted in standard rows, but others we simply scattered al voleo (broadcasting method). At Ivor´s farm we planted all the fields in rye as an end-of-season cover crop, and simply scattered them without covering; therefore I followed the same method here in our garden. But it seems that the broadcasted, uncovered seeds were eaten by birds: I failed to take into account that in larger fields the amount of seed consumed will be negligible, but in a small garden a couple of birds can eat every last semilla. Two Sopachueños warned me of that danger when we planted, but I ignored their advice based on my own experience. Moral of this story: Bolivian farmers know what they´re doing! They´ve been farming this land all their lives and know its intricacies much better than a foreigner with one year of agricultural experience. Luckily, we hedged our bets and the other half of the seeds, planted by Don Tomas in the traditional rows, are doing just fine.
Naturalist writer Edward Abbey once referred to the Peace Corps as ¨an act of cultural arrogance.¨ He was referring to the tendency of young American idealists to think that, as ¨civilized, well-educated¨ people, they can simply arrive in the Third World and ¨help¨ the poor, ignorant locals to improve their lives. They quickly learn that, as suburbanized housecats with little technical experience and no grasp of local customs and intricacies, they have little of substance to offer and instead much to learn from the supposedly ¨backward¨ peoples they came to help. Bellarmine President Joseph McGowan also once referred to this phenomenon as ¨the Peace Corps syndrome.¨ (Of course, given the extravagant mansion Dr. McGowan lives in, I take his advice on social justice with a grain of salt...)
Of course, Abbey´s indictment is not unequivocally true: Since the Peace Corps is defined principally by the actions of individual Peace Corps volunteers, whether or not PC service is an act of cultural arrogance depends in each case on the actions and mindset of the volunteer. I, for one, struggled with this problem before coming to Bolivia: Even though I postponed my PC assignment by a year in order to gain some agricultural experience working for Ivor, still I knew that with one year of experience in Louisville, Kentucky I would have little to ¨teach¨ Bolivian farmers who have been working the land their whole lives, and who are following generations of local knowledge handed down by their forebears.
With that in mind, you might be wondering, what are we doing here? Why not instead use the American citizens´tax dollars to fund international NGO´s or government social programs? Well, for me, part of the answer has to do with the value of giving one´s time. Some of the most lasting benefits that Peace Corps Volunteers can offer come from their simple willingness to leave the familiar, comfortable life in the USA and spend two years living in a foreign place, learning the language, participating in traditional customs, working together with local folks. In this way, we show a great deal of respect to people that aren´t used to receiving much respect. Sending a check does not achieve the same effect.
Of course, cultural interchange is not the whole story. The projects matter a great deal, and Peace Corps Volunteers can in fact offer substantial support to communities through their work. Admittedly, generally speaking we are not experts and will probably fail as much as we succeed (e.g. my al voleo planting). But then failure is also a very good teacher, a stern tamer of cultural arrogance.
These are a few preliminary thoughts on what is for me still an open question. Maybe after two years of service my ideas will be clearer. I would appreciate any thoughts you guys have on the subject...
In the mean time, assuming the road blocks are lifted I am heading to Sucre this weekend, so I hold out again the possibility of finally posting some Sopachuy pics for you all to see. Be well and never stop questioning yourself!
The forage crops garden is coming along relatively well, although I made a tactical error in planting: Some of the seeds we planted in standard rows, but others we simply scattered al voleo (broadcasting method). At Ivor´s farm we planted all the fields in rye as an end-of-season cover crop, and simply scattered them without covering; therefore I followed the same method here in our garden. But it seems that the broadcasted, uncovered seeds were eaten by birds: I failed to take into account that in larger fields the amount of seed consumed will be negligible, but in a small garden a couple of birds can eat every last semilla. Two Sopachueños warned me of that danger when we planted, but I ignored their advice based on my own experience. Moral of this story: Bolivian farmers know what they´re doing! They´ve been farming this land all their lives and know its intricacies much better than a foreigner with one year of agricultural experience. Luckily, we hedged our bets and the other half of the seeds, planted by Don Tomas in the traditional rows, are doing just fine.
Naturalist writer Edward Abbey once referred to the Peace Corps as ¨an act of cultural arrogance.¨ He was referring to the tendency of young American idealists to think that, as ¨civilized, well-educated¨ people, they can simply arrive in the Third World and ¨help¨ the poor, ignorant locals to improve their lives. They quickly learn that, as suburbanized housecats with little technical experience and no grasp of local customs and intricacies, they have little of substance to offer and instead much to learn from the supposedly ¨backward¨ peoples they came to help. Bellarmine President Joseph McGowan also once referred to this phenomenon as ¨the Peace Corps syndrome.¨ (Of course, given the extravagant mansion Dr. McGowan lives in, I take his advice on social justice with a grain of salt...)
Of course, Abbey´s indictment is not unequivocally true: Since the Peace Corps is defined principally by the actions of individual Peace Corps volunteers, whether or not PC service is an act of cultural arrogance depends in each case on the actions and mindset of the volunteer. I, for one, struggled with this problem before coming to Bolivia: Even though I postponed my PC assignment by a year in order to gain some agricultural experience working for Ivor, still I knew that with one year of experience in Louisville, Kentucky I would have little to ¨teach¨ Bolivian farmers who have been working the land their whole lives, and who are following generations of local knowledge handed down by their forebears.
With that in mind, you might be wondering, what are we doing here? Why not instead use the American citizens´tax dollars to fund international NGO´s or government social programs? Well, for me, part of the answer has to do with the value of giving one´s time. Some of the most lasting benefits that Peace Corps Volunteers can offer come from their simple willingness to leave the familiar, comfortable life in the USA and spend two years living in a foreign place, learning the language, participating in traditional customs, working together with local folks. In this way, we show a great deal of respect to people that aren´t used to receiving much respect. Sending a check does not achieve the same effect.
Of course, cultural interchange is not the whole story. The projects matter a great deal, and Peace Corps Volunteers can in fact offer substantial support to communities through their work. Admittedly, generally speaking we are not experts and will probably fail as much as we succeed (e.g. my al voleo planting). But then failure is also a very good teacher, a stern tamer of cultural arrogance.
These are a few preliminary thoughts on what is for me still an open question. Maybe after two years of service my ideas will be clearer. I would appreciate any thoughts you guys have on the subject...
In the mean time, assuming the road blocks are lifted I am heading to Sucre this weekend, so I hold out again the possibility of finally posting some Sopachuy pics for you all to see. Be well and never stop questioning yourself!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
La Musica Increíble de los Años Ochenta
Hello there...
Here in Sopachuy we are still getting ready for the Feria and prepping the garden... not much new to report work-wise, relatively busy and happy, especially now that I am free of that maldito skin rash. I am working on A Confederacy of Dunces, my seventh book since I arrived in site as many weeks ago. Also halfway through 3 separate songs... hopefully at least one will turn into something, I am hedging my bets!
We celebrated Daniela´s 3rd birthday yesterday, Valentina´s little girl... typical kid party, lots of running and cake. They blasted a DVD of American music videos from the 1980´s -- I was ecstatic to revisit such musical gems as Rock Me Amadeus, Somebody´s Watching Me, We are the World, If You Want my Body, the Grease Mega Mix, I Was Made for Loving You, and Who Can it Be Now. (I will admit, however, that ¨Take on Me¨ is a guilty pleasure.) I was the tallest so I suspended the piñata while the kids waited underneath like a pack of ravenous hyenas. Then we sat around and drank beer, and the participating in the conversation became more and more challenging with each glass. But it was a good time.
More soon.
Here in Sopachuy we are still getting ready for the Feria and prepping the garden... not much new to report work-wise, relatively busy and happy, especially now that I am free of that maldito skin rash. I am working on A Confederacy of Dunces, my seventh book since I arrived in site as many weeks ago. Also halfway through 3 separate songs... hopefully at least one will turn into something, I am hedging my bets!
We celebrated Daniela´s 3rd birthday yesterday, Valentina´s little girl... typical kid party, lots of running and cake. They blasted a DVD of American music videos from the 1980´s -- I was ecstatic to revisit such musical gems as Rock Me Amadeus, Somebody´s Watching Me, We are the World, If You Want my Body, the Grease Mega Mix, I Was Made for Loving You, and Who Can it Be Now. (I will admit, however, that ¨Take on Me¨ is a guilty pleasure.) I was the tallest so I suspended the piñata while the kids waited underneath like a pack of ravenous hyenas. Then we sat around and drank beer, and the participating in the conversation became more and more challenging with each glass. But it was a good time.
More soon.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Forage Crops and a Pair of Rabbits
Howdy y´all. I am writing from Sucre, my regional city and the true capital of Bolivia. I am here this weekend running various errands, which range from finding the ingredients for honey shampoo to buying a pair of rabbits for a friend in Sopachuy. I hope they don´t shit too much on the seven-hour bus ride back to town.
In my site we are preparing for the big agricultural fair in July, a yearly extravaganza which attracts lots of outside visitors. Our beekeeping group will have a stand there, where we will be selling honey and, hopefully, other products including said shampoo and lip balm. On the forage front, Don Tomas and I finally broke ground the other day on our demonstration garden, which will include various types of alfalfa, barley and triticale (a mix between wheat and rye); we will plant next week. I brought a couple of cervezas along, as is the custom when dedicating a new piece of land, and Tomas poured out a splash for the Pachamamma, a Quechuan kind of Mother Earth figure. He said a prayer that she would allow our garden to produce fruitfully and that people would be educated by our efforts, rather than laugh at us. Indeed.
About that pictures thing... unfortunately this computer won`t let me upload any. So we`ll have to wait `til next time, I suppose. I haven`t taken that many yet anyway, but I promise next time to offer a comprehensive sample of Sopachuy life. Okay? Okay.
Love and miss. Go Obama.
In my site we are preparing for the big agricultural fair in July, a yearly extravaganza which attracts lots of outside visitors. Our beekeeping group will have a stand there, where we will be selling honey and, hopefully, other products including said shampoo and lip balm. On the forage front, Don Tomas and I finally broke ground the other day on our demonstration garden, which will include various types of alfalfa, barley and triticale (a mix between wheat and rye); we will plant next week. I brought a couple of cervezas along, as is the custom when dedicating a new piece of land, and Tomas poured out a splash for the Pachamamma, a Quechuan kind of Mother Earth figure. He said a prayer that she would allow our garden to produce fruitfully and that people would be educated by our efforts, rather than laugh at us. Indeed.
About that pictures thing... unfortunately this computer won`t let me upload any. So we`ll have to wait `til next time, I suppose. I haven`t taken that many yet anyway, but I promise next time to offer a comprehensive sample of Sopachuy life. Okay? Okay.
Love and miss. Go Obama.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Granny, Shamrocks and Space Quest
So I will start with a prayer of thanksgiving for Granny, for her strong, simple faith, for her quiet constant love for her family. My thoughts are with you all. We should not say that our family has lost its center. Instead I pray that her memory will keep us close to her joyful spirit, and thus draw us closer to each other.
My mom and dad tell me that her passing was peaceful, and that Anna sang beautifully at her funeral, and I am glad for that. As for me, I am sorry I can´t be with you guys during this time. But the neat thing about family is that I am somehow still with you anyway. I feel Granny´s presence with me here in Sopachuy. Obviously she would not forget to visit me here, since, after all, I am her favorite.
My Trinity brothas will be glad to know that Joey Porter ´78 will be named an Honor Alumnus at graduation this weekend. I say, it is about damn time. Through him I have lived and breathed Trinity since I was a youngin. Many of my first memories are hanging out at Steinhauser gym, collecting lost quarters and dimes while my dad coached basketball practice. He loves Trinity so much that he even agreed to assume the dreaded post of disciplinarian for like 7 years. He hates St. X with a 15 year-old´s passion. Trinity is his second home, and I cannot think of anyone who represents that place and what it stands for better than my father. I know better than anybody that he is a very good teacher. I am proud of my dad. Go Rocks!
Brief Sopachuy update: Patience, the pictures will come. Next time I go to Sucre I´ll upload a few. In the mean time, I am learning how to gather information from community members, to find out what interests them and what potential exists for various projects. If you guys remember the old Sierra computer games, King´s Quest, Space Quest, etc., you would often have to explore a new city, and there were always like 2 or 3 people hanging out on the street corner that you had to approach, and ask the right questions to advance in the game. They would give you information, like where to buy a tool you needed or where the bad guy lives, etc. Otherwise you would just have to wander around the city indefinitely. Being a PCV is pretty much like that: most of the valuable information I have collected, and ideas we have come up with, stem from casual conversations with folks on the street. Thanks Space Quest!
More soon. Peace and love...
My mom and dad tell me that her passing was peaceful, and that Anna sang beautifully at her funeral, and I am glad for that. As for me, I am sorry I can´t be with you guys during this time. But the neat thing about family is that I am somehow still with you anyway. I feel Granny´s presence with me here in Sopachuy. Obviously she would not forget to visit me here, since, after all, I am her favorite.
My Trinity brothas will be glad to know that Joey Porter ´78 will be named an Honor Alumnus at graduation this weekend. I say, it is about damn time. Through him I have lived and breathed Trinity since I was a youngin. Many of my first memories are hanging out at Steinhauser gym, collecting lost quarters and dimes while my dad coached basketball practice. He loves Trinity so much that he even agreed to assume the dreaded post of disciplinarian for like 7 years. He hates St. X with a 15 year-old´s passion. Trinity is his second home, and I cannot think of anyone who represents that place and what it stands for better than my father. I know better than anybody that he is a very good teacher. I am proud of my dad. Go Rocks!
Brief Sopachuy update: Patience, the pictures will come. Next time I go to Sucre I´ll upload a few. In the mean time, I am learning how to gather information from community members, to find out what interests them and what potential exists for various projects. If you guys remember the old Sierra computer games, King´s Quest, Space Quest, etc., you would often have to explore a new city, and there were always like 2 or 3 people hanging out on the street corner that you had to approach, and ask the right questions to advance in the game. They would give you information, like where to buy a tool you needed or where the bad guy lives, etc. Otherwise you would just have to wander around the city indefinitely. Being a PCV is pretty much like that: most of the valuable information I have collected, and ideas we have come up with, stem from casual conversations with folks on the street. Thanks Space Quest!
More soon. Peace and love...
Friday, May 2, 2008
Una Vida Nueva
Just as I was getting used to the frenetic pace of training, life has radically changed again. Now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer, I am writing from my site in Southeast Chuquisaca, where I will be living for the next two years.
I arrived just over a week ago to this gorgeous place, a quiet town nestled in a lush valley and enveloped by two rivers. During my site visit Dan introduced me to the town and many people, so I already know a few folks here. So far, I have basically been spending my time wandering around town, chatting with folks, or hanging out at the agricultural cooperative store, visited daily by many of the farmers with whom I will be working.
Coming from a task-oriented, hectic society, and fresh out of an intensive three-month training period, it is a challenge to adapt to the slow pace of life here, and to the lack of immediate work. I am not by nature a very patient dude, so that is a virtue I am quickly learning here in site. And although there is not a lot to do just yet, the local folks seem excited to get started on new projects, and we are beginning to exchange ideas and make plans. I will continue working with the beekeeping group developed by the previous volunteers here: It is honey harvest time, and the group´s strong colonies are producing well. Also in the works are plans to produce more advanced bee products, including royal jelly, with the group´s three strongest beekeepers. In addition, the cooperative has agreed to the idea of using a small plot of land as a demonstration plot for various forage crops, which if it succeeds will hopefully convince some of the socios to plant alfalfa or clover. Such crops are sorely needed here in Sopachuy, as the grazing animals here basically starve during the 8-month dry season. Growing and storing alimento would make it possible to sell meat and dairy products in the winter months (summer in the States). Other possible projects include building fish ponds, in which Jorge at the cooperative has expressed strong interest. I told him that I knew exactly nothing about fish farming, but that I would research the topic. So basically, there are tons of opportunities here in my site. The trick is to have patience while things develop: The most important thing is to build friendships and gain the trust of the community, without which accomplishing any meaningful work will be next to impossible.
Personally, I am doing pretty well. I love it here in Sopachuy, and everyone has welcomed me generously. Yes, Mom, I am making friends. I have loads of free time, which I spend walking, reading, cooking, playing guitar. But of course, being the only gringo in town, speaking Spanish all day, being away from the ones I love is tough. But I knew that those occasional feelings of loneliness, isolation would come. One friend counseled me, ¨When you feel alone, just remember all the people who love you.¨ And that sure makes me feel better.
Life is good here, man. I certainly can´t complain. I´ll send pictures, once I take a few. Till then, keep on rockin in the free world...
I arrived just over a week ago to this gorgeous place, a quiet town nestled in a lush valley and enveloped by two rivers. During my site visit Dan introduced me to the town and many people, so I already know a few folks here. So far, I have basically been spending my time wandering around town, chatting with folks, or hanging out at the agricultural cooperative store, visited daily by many of the farmers with whom I will be working.
Coming from a task-oriented, hectic society, and fresh out of an intensive three-month training period, it is a challenge to adapt to the slow pace of life here, and to the lack of immediate work. I am not by nature a very patient dude, so that is a virtue I am quickly learning here in site. And although there is not a lot to do just yet, the local folks seem excited to get started on new projects, and we are beginning to exchange ideas and make plans. I will continue working with the beekeeping group developed by the previous volunteers here: It is honey harvest time, and the group´s strong colonies are producing well. Also in the works are plans to produce more advanced bee products, including royal jelly, with the group´s three strongest beekeepers. In addition, the cooperative has agreed to the idea of using a small plot of land as a demonstration plot for various forage crops, which if it succeeds will hopefully convince some of the socios to plant alfalfa or clover. Such crops are sorely needed here in Sopachuy, as the grazing animals here basically starve during the 8-month dry season. Growing and storing alimento would make it possible to sell meat and dairy products in the winter months (summer in the States). Other possible projects include building fish ponds, in which Jorge at the cooperative has expressed strong interest. I told him that I knew exactly nothing about fish farming, but that I would research the topic. So basically, there are tons of opportunities here in my site. The trick is to have patience while things develop: The most important thing is to build friendships and gain the trust of the community, without which accomplishing any meaningful work will be next to impossible.
Personally, I am doing pretty well. I love it here in Sopachuy, and everyone has welcomed me generously. Yes, Mom, I am making friends. I have loads of free time, which I spend walking, reading, cooking, playing guitar. But of course, being the only gringo in town, speaking Spanish all day, being away from the ones I love is tough. But I knew that those occasional feelings of loneliness, isolation would come. One friend counseled me, ¨When you feel alone, just remember all the people who love you.¨ And that sure makes me feel better.
Life is good here, man. I certainly can´t complain. I´ll send pictures, once I take a few. Till then, keep on rockin in the free world...
Monday, April 14, 2008
Declaración de Compromiso
Before swearing in, each trainee has to write a commitment statement and present it before the group and the Country Director. Thought I would include what I wrote, in case you´re wondering what in the world I´m doing down here...
Ama Suwa, Ama Qhella, Ama Llulla
These are the prohibitions of Quechuan law, which in English are translated, ¨Do not steal, do not lie, do not be lazy.¨ At first glance, these commandments don´t seem hard to follow; neither do they appear to be a comprehensive guide for right behavior. Unlike English, however, Quechua is a language of few words: Saying little, one expresses a great deal. Such is the case with the above laws: For many of us, myself included, to truly follow them would demand of us radical life changes.
Ama suwa: ¨Do not steal.¨ To follow this commandment, not only must we refrain from active theft, but also we must pay our debts. Incidentally, Plato in his Republic defines justice as giving to each what is owed. One reason I joined the Peace Corps is that I believe that the poor of the non-industrialized world are owed the opportunity to lead a fulfilling life – they are entitled not only to food and shelter, but also medicine, education, the opportunity to develop their natural gifts, and respect. Though all human beings share these rights, many in Bolivia and throughout the Southern Hemisphere do not have them. They are owed. And as someone who has had more than his fair share of these opportunities, I feel that it is I who owe: As a person of privilege, I owe it to the Bolivian people to share. To refuse, I believe, would be tantamount to stealing.
Ama qhella: ¨Do not lie.¨ Which is another way of saying, ¨always tell the truth.¨ But in both the First and Third Worlds, there persist many pernicious and oppressive lies. To remain silent while another is lying is to be complicit in the lie: Thus, if we wish to follow Quechuan law, we must actively tell the truth. In Bolivia, as many of my fellow Trainees are aware, some people hold to the lie which says, ¨all gringos are greedy, selfish, unfeeling imperialists.¨ As Peace Corps Volunteers, we have the opportunity to show the people of our communities that this statement is false. At PCV Daniel´s despedida in [my site], farmer and beekeeper Don Tomas spoke of this common perception of North Americans, and he sternly insisted, ¨es mentira.¨ By fighting the lies that foster division and hatred, we have the opportunity, on an individual level, to promote world peace.
In our homeland, there exists a parallel and even more dangerous falsehood: ¨All people have an equal opportunity for success, and the poor, because of their ignorance and laziness, deserve their lot. Poverty is someone else´s problem, not my responsibility.¨ It is my hope that I can return to the United States after my two years in Bolivia as a messenger for the poor, who I feel certain would take strong exception to the above statement. I want to serve as a PCV in Bolivia because I want to tell the truth. (Incidentally, the eradication of the above two lies coincides with the second and third goals of the Peace Corps.)
Ama llulla: ¨Do not be lazy.¨ And why else are we here? We are willing to work hard. We want to do our best. We are chronic overachievers. Personally, I spent 14 months waiting to receive my invitation to Bolivia, during seven of which I worked as a farmer´s apprentice. I took that job because, as a philosophy major and lifelong suburbanite, I was deemed unqualified for Peace Corps. At the farm, I learned how to grow potatoes (a vital skill to have here in Bolivia!), and I also learned how to truly work hard. By accident, I also learned while working at the farm that I happen to love farming.
Strangely, something similar has happened to me during these three months of training. I applied for Peace Corps for many idealistic reasons, partially out of a sense of duty. During training, however, I have happily discovered that I actually enjoy development work, and that I am going to love living in Bolivia. It has been an amazing growth process: What was an abstract and naive idea of ¨fighting poverty¨ is now a set of feasible goals and strategies for development in [my pueblo]. What was a lofty notion of ¨serving the poor¨ has now been realized by a fervent desire to help the Beekeeping Association there succeed, so that Don Valerio can send his children to college. I come to my site with ganas to work hard, to do my very best. I believe that anything less would be a violation of the third law.
So, to the directors of Peace Corps / Bolivia, I submit that:
Because I believe in my ability to work with the women and men of [my site] to make real, sustainable progress;
Because I can already feel myself falling in love with my job and with this place;
Because I believe deeply in the mission of the Peace Corps; and
Because, most of all, I wish neither to be a thief, nor a liar, nor lazy, but rather a friend and compañero to the people of Bolivia,
I therefore ask that I be further considered to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Finally, to my fellow B-47 trainees, my friends, I say to you, ¨Ama suwa, ama qhella, ama llulla.¨ To which, according to the Quechuan custom, you should respond, ¨Qanpis kikillanta.¨ In English: ¨You either!¨
Ama Suwa, Ama Qhella, Ama Llulla
These are the prohibitions of Quechuan law, which in English are translated, ¨Do not steal, do not lie, do not be lazy.¨ At first glance, these commandments don´t seem hard to follow; neither do they appear to be a comprehensive guide for right behavior. Unlike English, however, Quechua is a language of few words: Saying little, one expresses a great deal. Such is the case with the above laws: For many of us, myself included, to truly follow them would demand of us radical life changes.
Ama suwa: ¨Do not steal.¨ To follow this commandment, not only must we refrain from active theft, but also we must pay our debts. Incidentally, Plato in his Republic defines justice as giving to each what is owed. One reason I joined the Peace Corps is that I believe that the poor of the non-industrialized world are owed the opportunity to lead a fulfilling life – they are entitled not only to food and shelter, but also medicine, education, the opportunity to develop their natural gifts, and respect. Though all human beings share these rights, many in Bolivia and throughout the Southern Hemisphere do not have them. They are owed. And as someone who has had more than his fair share of these opportunities, I feel that it is I who owe: As a person of privilege, I owe it to the Bolivian people to share. To refuse, I believe, would be tantamount to stealing.
Ama qhella: ¨Do not lie.¨ Which is another way of saying, ¨always tell the truth.¨ But in both the First and Third Worlds, there persist many pernicious and oppressive lies. To remain silent while another is lying is to be complicit in the lie: Thus, if we wish to follow Quechuan law, we must actively tell the truth. In Bolivia, as many of my fellow Trainees are aware, some people hold to the lie which says, ¨all gringos are greedy, selfish, unfeeling imperialists.¨ As Peace Corps Volunteers, we have the opportunity to show the people of our communities that this statement is false. At PCV Daniel´s despedida in [my site], farmer and beekeeper Don Tomas spoke of this common perception of North Americans, and he sternly insisted, ¨es mentira.¨ By fighting the lies that foster division and hatred, we have the opportunity, on an individual level, to promote world peace.
In our homeland, there exists a parallel and even more dangerous falsehood: ¨All people have an equal opportunity for success, and the poor, because of their ignorance and laziness, deserve their lot. Poverty is someone else´s problem, not my responsibility.¨ It is my hope that I can return to the United States after my two years in Bolivia as a messenger for the poor, who I feel certain would take strong exception to the above statement. I want to serve as a PCV in Bolivia because I want to tell the truth. (Incidentally, the eradication of the above two lies coincides with the second and third goals of the Peace Corps.)
Ama llulla: ¨Do not be lazy.¨ And why else are we here? We are willing to work hard. We want to do our best. We are chronic overachievers. Personally, I spent 14 months waiting to receive my invitation to Bolivia, during seven of which I worked as a farmer´s apprentice. I took that job because, as a philosophy major and lifelong suburbanite, I was deemed unqualified for Peace Corps. At the farm, I learned how to grow potatoes (a vital skill to have here in Bolivia!), and I also learned how to truly work hard. By accident, I also learned while working at the farm that I happen to love farming.
Strangely, something similar has happened to me during these three months of training. I applied for Peace Corps for many idealistic reasons, partially out of a sense of duty. During training, however, I have happily discovered that I actually enjoy development work, and that I am going to love living in Bolivia. It has been an amazing growth process: What was an abstract and naive idea of ¨fighting poverty¨ is now a set of feasible goals and strategies for development in [my pueblo]. What was a lofty notion of ¨serving the poor¨ has now been realized by a fervent desire to help the Beekeeping Association there succeed, so that Don Valerio can send his children to college. I come to my site with ganas to work hard, to do my very best. I believe that anything less would be a violation of the third law.
So, to the directors of Peace Corps / Bolivia, I submit that:
Because I believe in my ability to work with the women and men of [my site] to make real, sustainable progress;
Because I can already feel myself falling in love with my job and with this place;
Because I believe deeply in the mission of the Peace Corps; and
Because, most of all, I wish neither to be a thief, nor a liar, nor lazy, but rather a friend and compañero to the people of Bolivia,
I therefore ask that I be further considered to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Finally, to my fellow B-47 trainees, my friends, I say to you, ¨Ama suwa, ama qhella, ama llulla.¨ To which, according to the Quechuan custom, you should respond, ¨Qanpis kikillanta.¨ In English: ¨You either!¨
Visita de Sitio y Otras Fotos
Thought I´d begin with some beautiful scenery: Denis´ toenail used to be there. One afternoon I was studying and my host brother approached me and said, "Andrés, un favor grande...¨ and I helped him rip his rotten, black toenail off of his foot. Such is the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Sucre, the historical (¨actual,¨ according to the people there) capital of Bolivia. It is a rule that all buildings in the city center must be painted white! Beautiful town. Come see it.
The new Sucre crew. As my pueblo is 7 hours from the city, lamentablemente I probably won´t be seeing them much!
Dan, my pueblo´s current PCV, in front of the town.
Me in front of the Rio San Antonio near town. I promise to provide more eye-candy next time -- my pueblo is gorgeous, but it was raining all week.
Dan with Valerio, my work partner. Dan is holding various recuerdos given him by the Beekeepers´ Association at his going-away party.
Lebo watering our award-winning garden. The Ag trainees divided into 5 groups and each group has its own garden. Ours was judged the best. We won a cake. Gracias Ivor. 
Spike is his name. He got in a fight with a street dog (they are bad!) and lost part of his ear. I came to the rescue with my Peace Corps medical kit and we sterilized the wound and wrapped it in gauze. But Spike chewed the gauze off. Tough mutt.
Me (in my sweet new sombrero) and Ronaldo (in a ch´ullu).
My host brothers Jhonny (not a misprint), Ronaldo and Denis. Orlando, the second oldest, left 3 weeks ago to look for work in England. Sadly, in a mass exodus thousands of young Bolivians are leaving to look for work, mostly in Spain. As a result, Bolivia is losing its young talent and the country will suffer even more. But Orlando says he´s enjoying England, and has already joined two soccer teams.Sunday, April 6, 2008
Listo
Just returned from an incredible week in my future site. I spent the week hanging out with Dan, the current PCV whom I will replace in two weeks. He is a great guy and an excellent volunteer, and I am truly excited about the possibilities before me.
Sucre is my regional city, to which I will travel occasionally to visit the PC office, pick up mail and take care of odds and ends. It´s a beautiful town, called the ¨Athens of South America¨ for its wealth of historical architecture and majestic feel. I much prefer Sucre to the mundane hustle and bustle (dust and diesel) that is Cochabamba.
My pueblo in southeast Chuquisaca is a small town of a few hundred people, a quiet little town set within some of the most gorgeous countryside I have yet seen. Dan´s place, soon to be mine, is sort of an apartment setup: A landlord owns the place and lives on the first floor, and a family lives in the complex too, but basically I am independent. The second-floor place has its own bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, and Dan is pretty much leaving behind all of the furniture and supplies I will need. There´s also a patio on the roof where Dan washes his clothes: It´s also a perfect place to sit and strum the guitar on quiet evenings. It´s a modest place, not too fancy, but with most of the comforts of home. I couldn´t ask for more.
Basically Dan and I spent the whole week 1) meeting Bolivians and 2) talking for hours and hours about Peace Corps. He has an amazing relationship with the people in town, and is actually padrino (godfather) to a couple of kids, including the son of my official counterpart, beekeeper and construction worker Don Valerio Moscoso. I really feel lucky to be replacing this guy: I feel confident in gaining people´s trust and making friends, thanks in large part to the fact that Dan is so well loved and trusted.
We spent much of our time discussing the pueblo, the people, and the trabajo: Dan´s successes, struggles and failures, and how they relate to the possibilities for the next two years. I am coming in following four years of PC Agriculture service in town, and inherit a beekeeping project at a critical stage. There´s a group of about 15 beekeepers who do basic colony management and honey harvesting, but Dan has also been working with three advanced beekeepers on more technical bee activities, such as royal jelly harvesting and queen rearing. These guys will need help developing those projects and then, most importantly, finding a market for their relatively obscure products. Beekeeping will be a main focus of my two years of service. There are other exciting opportunities, too: Dan and the volunteer before him worked to promote forage crops, which are not common in town but are essential as feed during the dry season. The farmers have tried it before with mixed results, but Dan and I think that if we can convince the local cooperative to give alfalfa another shot, we could see some really positive results for the local campesinos.
Like many PCVs, Dan has mixed feelings about his service: Some projects have succeeded, others have failed, and some are hanging in the balance. Like many PCVs, Dan had to learn to accept failure, and realize that he could not singlehandedly lift the campesinos out of poverty; in Dan´s words, he had to ¨make peace with his service.¨ We talked extensively during the week about the frustrations of Peace Corps service, and even got into a few deeper conversations about the ultimate goals of PC. Basically we just had a solid time. Dan´s a hell of a guy.
Okay, I´ll wrap up this discourse. En fin, it was just an amazing week: What was an abstract idea of PC service is now a set of concrete objectives; what was an idealistic dream of helping ¨the poor¨ is now a desire to see Don Tomas succeed with his alfalfa crop, and to help Valerio send his kids to college. Basically, I feel ready for Peace Corps service. Well, as ready as I´ll ever be, anyway.
Another week and change of training. I´m restless and excited: As a new volunteer, I have, in the words of local beekeeper Don Cirilo said, pilas cargadas (charged batteries).
Love you guys.
Sucre is my regional city, to which I will travel occasionally to visit the PC office, pick up mail and take care of odds and ends. It´s a beautiful town, called the ¨Athens of South America¨ for its wealth of historical architecture and majestic feel. I much prefer Sucre to the mundane hustle and bustle (dust and diesel) that is Cochabamba.
My pueblo in southeast Chuquisaca is a small town of a few hundred people, a quiet little town set within some of the most gorgeous countryside I have yet seen. Dan´s place, soon to be mine, is sort of an apartment setup: A landlord owns the place and lives on the first floor, and a family lives in the complex too, but basically I am independent. The second-floor place has its own bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, and Dan is pretty much leaving behind all of the furniture and supplies I will need. There´s also a patio on the roof where Dan washes his clothes: It´s also a perfect place to sit and strum the guitar on quiet evenings. It´s a modest place, not too fancy, but with most of the comforts of home. I couldn´t ask for more.
Basically Dan and I spent the whole week 1) meeting Bolivians and 2) talking for hours and hours about Peace Corps. He has an amazing relationship with the people in town, and is actually padrino (godfather) to a couple of kids, including the son of my official counterpart, beekeeper and construction worker Don Valerio Moscoso. I really feel lucky to be replacing this guy: I feel confident in gaining people´s trust and making friends, thanks in large part to the fact that Dan is so well loved and trusted.
We spent much of our time discussing the pueblo, the people, and the trabajo: Dan´s successes, struggles and failures, and how they relate to the possibilities for the next two years. I am coming in following four years of PC Agriculture service in town, and inherit a beekeeping project at a critical stage. There´s a group of about 15 beekeepers who do basic colony management and honey harvesting, but Dan has also been working with three advanced beekeepers on more technical bee activities, such as royal jelly harvesting and queen rearing. These guys will need help developing those projects and then, most importantly, finding a market for their relatively obscure products. Beekeeping will be a main focus of my two years of service. There are other exciting opportunities, too: Dan and the volunteer before him worked to promote forage crops, which are not common in town but are essential as feed during the dry season. The farmers have tried it before with mixed results, but Dan and I think that if we can convince the local cooperative to give alfalfa another shot, we could see some really positive results for the local campesinos.
Like many PCVs, Dan has mixed feelings about his service: Some projects have succeeded, others have failed, and some are hanging in the balance. Like many PCVs, Dan had to learn to accept failure, and realize that he could not singlehandedly lift the campesinos out of poverty; in Dan´s words, he had to ¨make peace with his service.¨ We talked extensively during the week about the frustrations of Peace Corps service, and even got into a few deeper conversations about the ultimate goals of PC. Basically we just had a solid time. Dan´s a hell of a guy.
Okay, I´ll wrap up this discourse. En fin, it was just an amazing week: What was an abstract idea of PC service is now a set of concrete objectives; what was an idealistic dream of helping ¨the poor¨ is now a desire to see Don Tomas succeed with his alfalfa crop, and to help Valerio send his kids to college. Basically, I feel ready for Peace Corps service. Well, as ready as I´ll ever be, anyway.
Another week and change of training. I´m restless and excited: As a new volunteer, I have, in the words of local beekeeper Don Cirilo said, pilas cargadas (charged batteries).
Love you guys.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Fotos: Semana Tecnica
...Corps.
Armando, my PCV role model. Unfortunately, I currently lack the testosterone to grow such an amazing beard.
As promised, a picture of me eating a queen bee larva. A week later, I am growing strange hairs on my back and craving honey. Weird. 
From this height I can almost see the U of L game...
Mountains, flowers. The usual.
PCT Brandon playing horsey with a Bolivian niña.
Me and my host-dad, Don Orlando. He´s holding a portrait of himself done by some guy whose house he painted in Spain. Apparently the guy was buena gente.
Honey harvesting in Villa.Monday, March 24, 2008
Chuquisaca, Mi Hogar Nuevo
This afternoon, our training group´s site locations were announced. My new home is located in the department of Chuquisaca (choo-kee-sock-uh). Of the fifteen potential sites for agriculture trainees, this was my first choice. I´m psyched.
My pueblo, the name of which I have been instructed not to divulge for security reasons, is about a seven-hour bus ride from Sucre, the historical capital of Bolivia (La Paz is the governmental capital). There are a few hundred people living in the town, and around 2000 in the surrounding municipality. Current volunteers and training coordinators tell me it´s an excellent site, and a place of exceptional beauty.
I will be replacing Daniel, a PCV from B-41 (the forty-first group of Bolivian PCV´s -- we are B-47). Apparently, I have a lot to live up to. Daniel has done some exceptional work with beekeeping: the apicultores with whom he works are involved in advanced beekeeping activities, including harvesting royal jelly (bee milk, mas o menos). So I, who had no experience with apiculture prior to training, have much to learn in a short time. Bring it on, I say.
We leave on Saturday night for our site visits; I will travel 10 hours by bus to Sucre, and then it´s another 7 hours to my site. I´ll spend four days next week getting to know the place, and learning as much as possible from Dan, whose service ends in April. Then it´s back to Coch for the final two weeks of this head-spinning entrenamiento.
I couldn´t have asked for a better placement. I can´t wait to get started.
I´m scouring the city in search of a replacement part for my camera. Until then, use your imaginations!
Peace and love.
My pueblo, the name of which I have been instructed not to divulge for security reasons, is about a seven-hour bus ride from Sucre, the historical capital of Bolivia (La Paz is the governmental capital). There are a few hundred people living in the town, and around 2000 in the surrounding municipality. Current volunteers and training coordinators tell me it´s an excellent site, and a place of exceptional beauty.
I will be replacing Daniel, a PCV from B-41 (the forty-first group of Bolivian PCV´s -- we are B-47). Apparently, I have a lot to live up to. Daniel has done some exceptional work with beekeeping: the apicultores with whom he works are involved in advanced beekeeping activities, including harvesting royal jelly (bee milk, mas o menos). So I, who had no experience with apiculture prior to training, have much to learn in a short time. Bring it on, I say.
We leave on Saturday night for our site visits; I will travel 10 hours by bus to Sucre, and then it´s another 7 hours to my site. I´ll spend four days next week getting to know the place, and learning as much as possible from Dan, whose service ends in April. Then it´s back to Coch for the final two weeks of this head-spinning entrenamiento.
I couldn´t have asked for a better placement. I can´t wait to get started.
I´m scouring the city in search of a replacement part for my camera. Until then, use your imaginations!
Peace and love.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Semana Tecnica
We have just returned from an exhilarating tech week. The 15 Agriculture trainees and our coordinators visited several different PCV sites in the Cochabamba and Santa Cruz departments of Bolivia (Villa Esperanza, Chilon, Quirusillas, and Samaipata), getting a taste of what life is like as a Volunteer. We worked mostly with bees during the week, from queen rearing to colony division. One day we went in teams of three to capture wild beehives and transplant them into managed colonies... I got stung about six times, but supposedly bee venom is good for you, so that´s all to the good.
I took some killer pictures during the week, but unfortunately I seem to have misplaced my USB cable, so I´m not able to load them onto the computer. Hopefully it will turn up soon -- I have this great picture of me eating a queen bee larva.
Less than a month remains in training. On Monday I will find out my site placement, where I will live for the next two years. Stay tuned!
I took some killer pictures during the week, but unfortunately I seem to have misplaced my USB cable, so I´m not able to load them onto the computer. Hopefully it will turn up soon -- I have this great picture of me eating a queen bee larva.
Less than a month remains in training. On Monday I will find out my site placement, where I will live for the next two years. Stay tuned!
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Aprendiendo a la Velocidad de la Luz
Friends,
The pace of training continues to approach the speed of light.
How much can one possibly teach a human being in three months? Well, start with developing a understanding of Spanish and the intricacies of Bolivian culture (e.g. how to navigate the labyrinth of Bolivian public transportation without getting robbed or lost); then there´s compost making, pest and disease management, vermiculture (worm farming), apiculture (beekeeping), and product transformation (marmelades, peanut butter, dehydrated fruit and meat, yogurt and cheese); finally, there´s the enigma of effective development work (e.g. presenting formal presentations to a Bolivian audience, operating a community bank, conducting a ¨participatory diagnostic analysis¨ and forming a project proposal). You might say it´s the hippie equivalent of boot camp. And yes, I´m loving it.
The pace of training continues to approach the speed of light.
How much can one possibly teach a human being in three months? Well, start with developing a understanding of Spanish and the intricacies of Bolivian culture (e.g. how to navigate the labyrinth of Bolivian public transportation without getting robbed or lost); then there´s compost making, pest and disease management, vermiculture (worm farming), apiculture (beekeeping), and product transformation (marmelades, peanut butter, dehydrated fruit and meat, yogurt and cheese); finally, there´s the enigma of effective development work (e.g. presenting formal presentations to a Bolivian audience, operating a community bank, conducting a ¨participatory diagnostic analysis¨ and forming a project proposal). You might say it´s the hippie equivalent of boot camp. And yes, I´m loving it.
In our agriculture group, we formed sub-groups of three to form mini-enterprises. Our group decided to make cheese -- which, of course, we had absolutely no idea how to do. So we received a loan of 90 Bolivianos to buy supplies and basically winged it (we did have a one-page summary of the cheese-making process). To our surprise and delight, the cheese turned out great! It had a perfect consistency, color and texture (admittedly, however, it could have used a bit more salt). We packaged our cheese rounds in plastic wrap and printed labels. The best part of the business was the name: In Spanish, ¨Peace Corps¨is Cuerpo de Paz; thus, we dubbed our product Queso de Paz (i.e., Peace Cheese. It´s funnier in Spanish). And, would you believe it, we actually made a profit... of just over a dollar.
We are about halfway through this training thing, and I am feeling pretty comfortable here. My host family and I are getting along really well. It´s still easiest to talk to my youngest brother, who´s just 11, because he speaks clearly and uses pretty simple language. We have gotten pretty close -- the other day we played soccer one-on-one. The 11 year-old won, 6-5. Yes, I was trying my hardest. But in fairness to myself, I was wearing Chaco´s, no match for his spikes. And he´s a Bolivian, he has been playing soccer all his life -- even his name, Ronaldo (Ronaldiño for short, like the Brazilian superstar) screams soccer skills. But then, I do have about 18 inches on him. He´s a really funny kid... when he´s angry, he screams ¨Shrek!¨ Apparently he thinks it´s a bad word in English. He tells me a former volunteer taught him that mala palablra: Los Omonte have had a dozen or more trainees in their home over the years, all of whom Ronaldiño refers to as ¨mis gringos¨(my white boys), as if we were pets or shoes or something. I get a kick out of it.
There are many moments of cultural miscommunication, and most often I am the one who ends up looking ridiculous: One night, for example, my host mother came home with a few huge sacks of potatoes and rice, and went inside to ask for my help. She said, ¨ven, ven¨(come here) but was making a hand motion that in the USA means ¨go away!¨ Confused, I stood up, sat down, stood up again, and finally went outside to help her. When I explained the source of my confusion, namely the difference in hand gestures, she almost died laughing. That was like three weeks ago, and they still tell the story several times a week. Very funny. Silly white boy.
On Wednesday, the Agriculture group (there are fifteen of us; the other 16 trainees of B47 are in Environmental Education or Natural Resources) leaves Cochabamba to embark on ¨Tech Week¨: We will travel by bus to several departments of Bolivia, visiting volunteers´sites and honing our technical skills. The main focus is beekeeping, which interests me more and more as I learn about it. Bees are truly fascinating creatures, and you can make a killing selling honey with very low production costs. I hope to be involved in apiculture when I get to my site.
Speaking of sites, in about two weeks I should know for certain where I´ll be living for the next two years. There are fifteen possible sites for Agriculture, and they are all located in warm to tropical areas of Bolivia. Thank God! It doesn´t matter much to me where I am placed, although there are a couple of sites in which I am particularly interested; so long as I am working outside, in the campo rather than the bustling, smelly city, I will be a happy gringo.
Much love to all of you, friends and family. I miss you all and keep you always in my thoughts. Keep the faith.
Eve
To all who knew and loved Eve Carson, who passed away tragically this week, I want to express my sorrow and sympathy for this dreadful loss. Though I did not know Eve well, I was struck by her radiance, her joy and kindness. One of my close friends loved her very much. I honor her memory and give thanks for the joy she brought to him and to this world. I send my love and prayers to all those who are suffering now.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Fotos: La primera mes
Cochabamba Airport. We were met by a group of raucous PCVs, holding signs and cheering for us. Later, I overheard one PCV say to another, ¨Ah, I remember the day we arrived, smelling like fear and soap.¨
Nuestra casa. Donde viven los Omonte, my middle-class host family.
Hermanito. Me and Ronaldo, my little brother. He has enough energy to power a spaceship. It was very difficult to get him to hold still for five seconds so I could take this photo.
Arco iris. Somewhere over the rainbow, way down in Bolivia...
P-dub. Fellow Field Day Family Farmers will surely recognize this planta mala: Amaranth, in the U.S. commonly known as pigweed. Yes, to my delight, it grows here in Bolivia too.
Vacas y montañas. Bolivia is insanely gorgeous.
A bunch of PCTs jumping. I don´t know why we jumped. It just felt right.
El huerto. With fellow gardeners Lebo and Marlise. We made a fence out of corn stalks. Its purpose is purely symbolic.
Tipitop. We learned how to make soap holders out of two-liter bottles, which involves making rope out of the plastic label. Not exactly the most useful skill, but at least I can make rope.
Me and a parrot kissing. My options for romantic interest are limited here in Bolivia. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Beekeepers. That´s me on the left with the orange gloves. I´m holding a ¨smoker,¨which (as you might guess) sends out puffs of smoke. The smoke calms the bees down. Cool.Sunday, February 17, 2008
¡Por fin, Domingo!
A moment to breathe. Whew! Another week of intensive training has come and gone. The furious pace of training (not to mention the altitude) makes it necessary to stop and catch one´s breath.
First, a political update: Umm, I have nothing new to report, really. The tension seems to have relaxed a bit, as spying suspicions have yielded to concern over the horrific floods in Beni (although this morning, during a taxi ride to the internet café, I heard a man on the radio blaming the flooding on the imperialist USA, since we are the primary impetus behind global climate change, which in turn sparks severe weather events. The guy had a point, but I had to laugh... everything, it seems, is our fault.) It is unclear whether there will be any further political implications from the ¨spying incident,¨ but I am not too worried about that. Rather, I think the biggest challenge will be overcoming suspicion in the campo, suspicion which certainly was already present but will likely be compounded by these events. I suppose I ought to just consider it a healthy challenge!
Honestly, however, we have been so busy that there has been little time to worry about politics. The host of activities includes, for Ag. volunteers, planting gardens: I have been working with two other trainees this week, preparing the soil for our huerto. Our instructors informed us that finding tools and fertilizer would be our responsibility; so, armed with an empty wheelbarrow and our trademark gringo optimism, we tried three different houses before finding someone who could spare us some caca de vaca. We added the manure, and some sand, to the soil and broke up a 30 square meter plot with shovels (A lot more difficult than it sounds, especially for someone used to a handy roto-tiller!). Yesterday, we transplanted some sorry-looking seedlings provided us by PC staff: Beets, onions, broccoli and lettuce (the latter looked particularly pathetic). I felt like Charlie Brown (it´s not such a bad tree, after all)... keep your fingers crossed!
In other news, I am now doing my laundry by hand. Wendell Berry writes with nostalgia about the pre-washing machine era, in which housewives had more dignity because of the honor inherent in washing clothes by hand. I don´t know if I totally subscribe to that theory, but I must say that I have a healthy respect for Bolivian women, who in many ways are the leaders of the household.
I am trying, so far without success, to post a few pictures on this blog. Unfortunately the service at these internet cafés is very slow. Oh well, I didn´t come to Bolivia for its cutting-edge technology! I will keep trying -- until then, you´ll just have to use your imaginations.
Sorry if the last post seemed a little negative. A friend and former PCV once counseled me never to send a letter the day I write it -- rather, I ought to give myself time to cool down, and reflect on what was written the next day. I was upset about what happened, but there is not much I can do about it. Sometimes it´s important to keep the Serenity Prayer in mind.
I´m still having a great time. More soon.
First, a political update: Umm, I have nothing new to report, really. The tension seems to have relaxed a bit, as spying suspicions have yielded to concern over the horrific floods in Beni (although this morning, during a taxi ride to the internet café, I heard a man on the radio blaming the flooding on the imperialist USA, since we are the primary impetus behind global climate change, which in turn sparks severe weather events. The guy had a point, but I had to laugh... everything, it seems, is our fault.) It is unclear whether there will be any further political implications from the ¨spying incident,¨ but I am not too worried about that. Rather, I think the biggest challenge will be overcoming suspicion in the campo, suspicion which certainly was already present but will likely be compounded by these events. I suppose I ought to just consider it a healthy challenge!
Honestly, however, we have been so busy that there has been little time to worry about politics. The host of activities includes, for Ag. volunteers, planting gardens: I have been working with two other trainees this week, preparing the soil for our huerto. Our instructors informed us that finding tools and fertilizer would be our responsibility; so, armed with an empty wheelbarrow and our trademark gringo optimism, we tried three different houses before finding someone who could spare us some caca de vaca. We added the manure, and some sand, to the soil and broke up a 30 square meter plot with shovels (A lot more difficult than it sounds, especially for someone used to a handy roto-tiller!). Yesterday, we transplanted some sorry-looking seedlings provided us by PC staff: Beets, onions, broccoli and lettuce (the latter looked particularly pathetic). I felt like Charlie Brown (it´s not such a bad tree, after all)... keep your fingers crossed!
In other news, I am now doing my laundry by hand. Wendell Berry writes with nostalgia about the pre-washing machine era, in which housewives had more dignity because of the honor inherent in washing clothes by hand. I don´t know if I totally subscribe to that theory, but I must say that I have a healthy respect for Bolivian women, who in many ways are the leaders of the household.
I am trying, so far without success, to post a few pictures on this blog. Unfortunately the service at these internet cafés is very slow. Oh well, I didn´t come to Bolivia for its cutting-edge technology! I will keep trying -- until then, you´ll just have to use your imaginations.
Sorry if the last post seemed a little negative. A friend and former PCV once counseled me never to send a letter the day I write it -- rather, I ought to give myself time to cool down, and reflect on what was written the next day. I was upset about what happened, but there is not much I can do about it. Sometimes it´s important to keep the Serenity Prayer in mind.
I´m still having a great time. More soon.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
No Somos Espias
So you may have heard about the recent scandal with PC Bolivia. If not, I´ll fill you in quickly: A Fulbright Scholar studying in Bolivia reported to the press that an official at the American Embassy had instructed him to report information about Cuban and Venezuelan doctors and their activities in Bolivia (asked him to spy, more or less). It was then revealed that this same official had instructed 30 Peace Corps Volunteers to do likewise at their swearing-in ceremony -- a Peace Corps director was present, and interrupted the official to contradict what he had said. Peace Corps is supposed to be apolitical and PCVs are never supposed to be associated with this kind of work. Word is that the embassy guy is going to lose his job. Nonetheless, Evo Morales, Bolivia´s president, gave a speech yesterday in which he condemned the official and seemed to suggest that Americans in Bolivia were spies.
First, I just want to assure everyone that I am safe.
Second, I am furious about all this. The possibility of the government having ulterior motives with PC was something I thought seriously about before deciding to join. Obviously, I have no interest in participating in any intelligence-gathering activities, directly or indirectly.
I have gotten to know many of Peace Corps/Bolivia´s employees, both North Americans and Bolivians, and I trust them. I trust Peace Corps, moreover, and believe that its motives and our work is positive and worthwhile. If I did not, I would not be here represting the organization and, for better or worse, the USA. But when we get this kind of publicity it reflects horribly on us in the minds of Bolivians, whose trust and friendship we must gain if anything positive is to be accomplished. So I´m pissed off, at the US Embassy official, and at his superiors for not firing his ass after the first incident.
Hopefully this will just blow over... that depends, of course, on whether the US government´s agents of foreign policy can still remember how to issue a sincere apology. One is certainly in order.
Other than that, it´s a beautiful day in Cochabamba.
More soon, after (hopefully) this embarrassing incident has been resolved. Peace.
First, I just want to assure everyone that I am safe.
Second, I am furious about all this. The possibility of the government having ulterior motives with PC was something I thought seriously about before deciding to join. Obviously, I have no interest in participating in any intelligence-gathering activities, directly or indirectly.
I have gotten to know many of Peace Corps/Bolivia´s employees, both North Americans and Bolivians, and I trust them. I trust Peace Corps, moreover, and believe that its motives and our work is positive and worthwhile. If I did not, I would not be here represting the organization and, for better or worse, the USA. But when we get this kind of publicity it reflects horribly on us in the minds of Bolivians, whose trust and friendship we must gain if anything positive is to be accomplished. So I´m pissed off, at the US Embassy official, and at his superiors for not firing his ass after the first incident.
Hopefully this will just blow over... that depends, of course, on whether the US government´s agents of foreign policy can still remember how to issue a sincere apology. One is certainly in order.
Other than that, it´s a beautiful day in Cochabamba.
More soon, after (hopefully) this embarrassing incident has been resolved. Peace.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Bienvenidos a Entrenamiento
Entonces...
We´re about two weeks into this thing, and a routine is gradually starting to materialize. On Saturday our group of 31 (32 originally, but one girl decided she wasn´t getting on the plane from D.C.) moved in with our host families, with whom we will live during these 11 weeks of training.
My family, los Omonte, has given quarter to many trainees in the past, so having a gringo around is old news for them. By our standards, it´s a pretty good size family: There´s the grandmother, Doña Cristina, who speaks only Quechua; Don Orlando y Doña Maria, the parents; and the four boys, Jhonny, Orlando, Denis y Ronaldo, ranging from age 11 to 22. The house is not exactly what I was expecting: The family has two cars, a relatively large house, nice furniture, flush toilets, semi-hot showers, a computer, and, alas, a TV. I had not been there five minutes when one of my brothers invited me in the house to watch tele. I was thinking, ¨I didn´t have to travel 5000 miles for this...¨But actually, the tele helps to break the occasional lull in conversation. The TV is filled with American shows. The brothers love ¨Los Simpson,¨¨Prison Break¨and, Anna´s favorite, ¨Smallville.¨ Oh well, at least there´s no Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
All of us gringos (rich Americans) live within a couple kilometers of one another, in a neighborhood the name of which I can´t divulge for security reasons (yeah, seriously, it´s a rule). We generally live in the nicer houses, but there is poverty here, too. The neighborhood is not far from Cochabamba, and there´s plenty of cheap public transportation to and from the city. I´m getting the hang of it; our general schedule is starting to fall into place, too, now that Carnaval is over. We have four hours of language classes, five days a week, plus plenty of technical training and, perhaps the most tiresome part, abstract job strategy. Yesterday we sat through 3 hours of extremely general volunteer theory. The only comparison I can think to make is with the movie Office Space: ¨Remember to ask yourself, with every decision you make, is this good for the company?¨ Plus the Peace Corps is as enamored with acronyms as they are with pamphlets. Here´s a brief, by no means comprehensive, sample:
PCT/V = peace corps trainee/volunteer
PDA = participatory diagnostic assessment
RVD = role of the volunteer in development
FREEHOP = Family, religion, economics, education, health, organizations, politics
NFE = non-formal education
PACA = participatory analysis for community action
SWOT = strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats
ET = early termination
COS = close of service
...and those are just the ones I can remember offhand. Although it can seem like repetition of common-sense stuff, I understand PC´s reasoning behind stressing the development strategies so heavily: A volunteer´s approach really is everything. If you adopt the wrong kind of attitude -- whether too authoritative or timid, condescending or acquiescent -- your community will not trust you, and thus nothing will get done. So, it seems, the Lumbergh approach has a point. And I really like the technical classes in agriculture, which began this afternoon. They were asking questions about transplanting seedlings today and asked us whether carrots ought to be transplanted or directly seeded. I raised my hand and confidently stated that they ought to be direct-seeded, along with most other root crops, because they don´t like to be disturbed. Ivor would have been so proud.
The experience has not been without its hiccups, of course. On tuesday, the last night of Carnaval, there was a fiesta at the house, with food and plenty of alcohol. Among the guests were a cousin of Don Orlando and his wife, both of whom were extremely drunk. The guy insisted, so I had a toast or two with them (the custom is to pour a little cerveza onto the ground for pachamama, or mother earth, before drinking). The guy, who turned out to be a police captain, began grilling me about why I was there, asking how much I was paid, and demonstrating his lack of trust in Americans and in Peace Corps. From what I could make out between my poor Spanish and his drunkenness, he suspects PC is a US government conspiracy designed somehow to subvert Bolivian interests and exploit Bolivians. The conversation was frustrating, not because I was offended (I had considered the same possibility before deciding to join) but because my understanding of the language wasn´t quite good enough to understand him and make the case on behalf of PC, and also because he was trashed and kept asking the same questions and calling me Alejandro. Just as he was really starting to heat up, by flat out telling me he didn´t trust me (less than 2 minutes after sharing a toast with me and saying I was like a son to him), my brother Jhonny came out and told me there was a phone call for me. I excused myself and went inside -- the brothers had invented the phone call as an excuse to help me escape. It was a simple thing, but a hell of a nice gesture.
So things are really starting to pick up here, and I´m feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the projects they are assigning to us during training... but again, the plan is just to relax and do my best, and hopefuly all will fall into place. I´m being heckled by the owner of the internet cafe that my time has expired, so that´s all for now. More soon.
Go Cards, go Obama.
We´re about two weeks into this thing, and a routine is gradually starting to materialize. On Saturday our group of 31 (32 originally, but one girl decided she wasn´t getting on the plane from D.C.) moved in with our host families, with whom we will live during these 11 weeks of training.
My family, los Omonte, has given quarter to many trainees in the past, so having a gringo around is old news for them. By our standards, it´s a pretty good size family: There´s the grandmother, Doña Cristina, who speaks only Quechua; Don Orlando y Doña Maria, the parents; and the four boys, Jhonny, Orlando, Denis y Ronaldo, ranging from age 11 to 22. The house is not exactly what I was expecting: The family has two cars, a relatively large house, nice furniture, flush toilets, semi-hot showers, a computer, and, alas, a TV. I had not been there five minutes when one of my brothers invited me in the house to watch tele. I was thinking, ¨I didn´t have to travel 5000 miles for this...¨But actually, the tele helps to break the occasional lull in conversation. The TV is filled with American shows. The brothers love ¨Los Simpson,¨¨Prison Break¨and, Anna´s favorite, ¨Smallville.¨ Oh well, at least there´s no Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
All of us gringos (rich Americans) live within a couple kilometers of one another, in a neighborhood the name of which I can´t divulge for security reasons (yeah, seriously, it´s a rule). We generally live in the nicer houses, but there is poverty here, too. The neighborhood is not far from Cochabamba, and there´s plenty of cheap public transportation to and from the city. I´m getting the hang of it; our general schedule is starting to fall into place, too, now that Carnaval is over. We have four hours of language classes, five days a week, plus plenty of technical training and, perhaps the most tiresome part, abstract job strategy. Yesterday we sat through 3 hours of extremely general volunteer theory. The only comparison I can think to make is with the movie Office Space: ¨Remember to ask yourself, with every decision you make, is this good for the company?¨ Plus the Peace Corps is as enamored with acronyms as they are with pamphlets. Here´s a brief, by no means comprehensive, sample:
PCT/V = peace corps trainee/volunteer
PDA = participatory diagnostic assessment
RVD = role of the volunteer in development
FREEHOP = Family, religion, economics, education, health, organizations, politics
NFE = non-formal education
PACA = participatory analysis for community action
SWOT = strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats
ET = early termination
COS = close of service
...and those are just the ones I can remember offhand. Although it can seem like repetition of common-sense stuff, I understand PC´s reasoning behind stressing the development strategies so heavily: A volunteer´s approach really is everything. If you adopt the wrong kind of attitude -- whether too authoritative or timid, condescending or acquiescent -- your community will not trust you, and thus nothing will get done. So, it seems, the Lumbergh approach has a point. And I really like the technical classes in agriculture, which began this afternoon. They were asking questions about transplanting seedlings today and asked us whether carrots ought to be transplanted or directly seeded. I raised my hand and confidently stated that they ought to be direct-seeded, along with most other root crops, because they don´t like to be disturbed. Ivor would have been so proud.
The experience has not been without its hiccups, of course. On tuesday, the last night of Carnaval, there was a fiesta at the house, with food and plenty of alcohol. Among the guests were a cousin of Don Orlando and his wife, both of whom were extremely drunk. The guy insisted, so I had a toast or two with them (the custom is to pour a little cerveza onto the ground for pachamama, or mother earth, before drinking). The guy, who turned out to be a police captain, began grilling me about why I was there, asking how much I was paid, and demonstrating his lack of trust in Americans and in Peace Corps. From what I could make out between my poor Spanish and his drunkenness, he suspects PC is a US government conspiracy designed somehow to subvert Bolivian interests and exploit Bolivians. The conversation was frustrating, not because I was offended (I had considered the same possibility before deciding to join) but because my understanding of the language wasn´t quite good enough to understand him and make the case on behalf of PC, and also because he was trashed and kept asking the same questions and calling me Alejandro. Just as he was really starting to heat up, by flat out telling me he didn´t trust me (less than 2 minutes after sharing a toast with me and saying I was like a son to him), my brother Jhonny came out and told me there was a phone call for me. I excused myself and went inside -- the brothers had invented the phone call as an excuse to help me escape. It was a simple thing, but a hell of a nice gesture.
So things are really starting to pick up here, and I´m feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the projects they are assigning to us during training... but again, the plan is just to relax and do my best, and hopefuly all will fall into place. I´m being heckled by the owner of the internet cafe that my time has expired, so that´s all for now. More soon.
Go Cards, go Obama.
La Primera Semana
Amigos y familia,
Greetings from the Southern hemisphere.
Nearly a week has gone by since I left Louisville, and the first days have basically been training for training. We spent three days in Washington, basically getting to know one another -- the activities were a bit tortuous, but it was great to meet my fellow trainees, who are amazing. They are all intelligent, motivated, well-traveled, experienced, and genuine. It was truly a relief to finally meet people who are going through the same crazy emotions and experiences.
We flew on Tuesday to Miami, then took a 6-hour flight to La Paz. (Ratatouille was playing on the plane, but I slept through it.) At 13,000 feet, the air in La Paz is almost nonexistent. My head immediately started pounding, I felt dizzy, I was seeing purple spots; meanwhile, since our plane had arrived late, the PC official who met us in La Paz was emphatically trying to herd us onto the next flight, a short trip to Cochabamba, our training site.
Still dazed, I exited the plane in Cochabamba, at a more manageable 8,000 feet. It was a beautiful day (like every day here): Warm, sunny, like the best spring days in Louisville. To our surprise, our group was met with a chorus of raucous cheers and handmade ¨Peace Corps¨ signs -- about 20 current PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) had come to the Cochabamba airport to welcome us to Bolivia. It was the best welcome I can remember, and the best start to these next two years I could have asked for. Spending time with current PCVs is really exciting and encouraging: They all seem confident, knowledgeable, and at home here in Bolivia. (For those who went to Guatemala with me, they remind me of Mateo.) I want to be just like them.
We have been staying at a very nice hotel in Cochabamba: Here, and all over Latin America, the Carnaval festival is beginning. It´s a pre-Lenten weeklong fiesta, much like Mardi Gras. Apparently, one of the traditions during Carnaval is to throw water balloons at passersby: As you might guess, gringos are prime targets. We must constantly be on guard when we go out for dinner -- especially because some of the balloons are rumored to be filled with piss and/or ink (miracle elixir, indeed).
We spend our days at the PC training center nearby. There, as in Washington, we have to sit through interminable orientation sessions -- and they refuse to desist from giving us pamphlets. Peace Corps is obsessed with pamphlets. I must have fifty of them. Pamphlets aside, the training center is excellent. I was expecting a sterile office building, but it´s actually an authentic compound: Adobe, plenty of grass, vegetable gardens, fish ponds -- and, of course, an intimidating line of glass shards protruding from the top of the outside walls to keep out intruders.
So far, I have received three shots (yellow fever, hep A and B), with several more to come; begun classes for Spanish and job training; and learned to use a latrine. Amazing things, these latrines! You should all try it. I´m going to build one in my parents´ back yard when I come home.
Tomorrow each Trainee moves in with his/her host family: The families will house and feed us during the 3 months of training, before we are assigned to our sites and new families. Since my Spanish is conversational but not fluent, I´m a bit nervous about this transition; but I´m really excited, too. For the next three months, we take Spanish classes 4 hours a day, 5 days a week; we will also be receiving training for our agriculture projects, and culture, health and safety training. The nature of my project is still ambiguous, and depends greatly on the location to which I am assigned. I´ll keep you posted.
It´s a lot to take in at one time. But my intuition tells me everything will be fine. Let´s hope my gastrointestinal system agrees.
I want to share one more thing with you before I wrap things up. As I mentioned, I slept during most of the flight to La Paz. When I woke up, about a half-hour before we landed, the sun had begun to rise amid the sea of clouds. In my delirious half-awake state, I fumbled around for my journal and wrote this, the first of what I hope will be many entries:
January 30, 2008
30,000 feet, just before 6 a.m.:
I shake myself from a restive, turbulent sleep, open my eyes. My contact lenses have dried, and so I have to blink continuously until the moisture returns.
Looking out the window, the plane´s wing is pointing toward the future: Out across the turbid yellow-gray horizon, the sun is rising over South America, my home for the next two years.
It is a good welcome. Quiet, hopeful.
Love you guys. More soon.
Paz,
Andrew
Greetings from the Southern hemisphere.
Nearly a week has gone by since I left Louisville, and the first days have basically been training for training. We spent three days in Washington, basically getting to know one another -- the activities were a bit tortuous, but it was great to meet my fellow trainees, who are amazing. They are all intelligent, motivated, well-traveled, experienced, and genuine. It was truly a relief to finally meet people who are going through the same crazy emotions and experiences.
We flew on Tuesday to Miami, then took a 6-hour flight to La Paz. (Ratatouille was playing on the plane, but I slept through it.) At 13,000 feet, the air in La Paz is almost nonexistent. My head immediately started pounding, I felt dizzy, I was seeing purple spots; meanwhile, since our plane had arrived late, the PC official who met us in La Paz was emphatically trying to herd us onto the next flight, a short trip to Cochabamba, our training site.
Still dazed, I exited the plane in Cochabamba, at a more manageable 8,000 feet. It was a beautiful day (like every day here): Warm, sunny, like the best spring days in Louisville. To our surprise, our group was met with a chorus of raucous cheers and handmade ¨Peace Corps¨ signs -- about 20 current PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) had come to the Cochabamba airport to welcome us to Bolivia. It was the best welcome I can remember, and the best start to these next two years I could have asked for. Spending time with current PCVs is really exciting and encouraging: They all seem confident, knowledgeable, and at home here in Bolivia. (For those who went to Guatemala with me, they remind me of Mateo.) I want to be just like them.
We have been staying at a very nice hotel in Cochabamba: Here, and all over Latin America, the Carnaval festival is beginning. It´s a pre-Lenten weeklong fiesta, much like Mardi Gras. Apparently, one of the traditions during Carnaval is to throw water balloons at passersby: As you might guess, gringos are prime targets. We must constantly be on guard when we go out for dinner -- especially because some of the balloons are rumored to be filled with piss and/or ink (miracle elixir, indeed).
We spend our days at the PC training center nearby. There, as in Washington, we have to sit through interminable orientation sessions -- and they refuse to desist from giving us pamphlets. Peace Corps is obsessed with pamphlets. I must have fifty of them. Pamphlets aside, the training center is excellent. I was expecting a sterile office building, but it´s actually an authentic compound: Adobe, plenty of grass, vegetable gardens, fish ponds -- and, of course, an intimidating line of glass shards protruding from the top of the outside walls to keep out intruders.
So far, I have received three shots (yellow fever, hep A and B), with several more to come; begun classes for Spanish and job training; and learned to use a latrine. Amazing things, these latrines! You should all try it. I´m going to build one in my parents´ back yard when I come home.
Tomorrow each Trainee moves in with his/her host family: The families will house and feed us during the 3 months of training, before we are assigned to our sites and new families. Since my Spanish is conversational but not fluent, I´m a bit nervous about this transition; but I´m really excited, too. For the next three months, we take Spanish classes 4 hours a day, 5 days a week; we will also be receiving training for our agriculture projects, and culture, health and safety training. The nature of my project is still ambiguous, and depends greatly on the location to which I am assigned. I´ll keep you posted.
It´s a lot to take in at one time. But my intuition tells me everything will be fine. Let´s hope my gastrointestinal system agrees.
I want to share one more thing with you before I wrap things up. As I mentioned, I slept during most of the flight to La Paz. When I woke up, about a half-hour before we landed, the sun had begun to rise amid the sea of clouds. In my delirious half-awake state, I fumbled around for my journal and wrote this, the first of what I hope will be many entries:
January 30, 2008
30,000 feet, just before 6 a.m.:
I shake myself from a restive, turbulent sleep, open my eyes. My contact lenses have dried, and so I have to blink continuously until the moisture returns.
Looking out the window, the plane´s wing is pointing toward the future: Out across the turbid yellow-gray horizon, the sun is rising over South America, my home for the next two years.
It is a good welcome. Quiet, hopeful.
Love you guys. More soon.
Paz,
Andrew
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