MOSAIC article

My good friend from Grinnell invited me to write an article for a magazine on campus about my experience in Chile, and I decided I could use it as a blog post! Here it is:

After the whirlwind of grabbing luggage, going through customs and immigration, and finding my group of fellow abroad students at the airport in Santiago, Chile, my study abroad experience began. Since this was my first experience outside the US, even my first airplane ride, I knew the next several months would involve new experiences, foods, education systems, family structures, and cultural practices. I had the expectation that Santiago would immediately feel different from the US, but on the surface, it looks and operates just like any other big city in the US: tall buildings, traffic, and typical US fast-food chains popping up around every block. The first few weeks felt like I was just speaking Spanish all day in the US.

I think a lot of this has to do with the way the country has progressed since the 20-year dictatorship that started on September 11^th, 1973. Augusto Pinochet, with help from the US government, organized a coup against Salvador Allende’s left-wing administration to prevent the county from “falling into communism.” Aftershocks of the dictatorship are still felt today: the government has not offered apologies to families of the more than 3,000 “desaparecidos” (the disappeared) or to the 30,000 victims of torture, leaving a large chunk of society without closure. Most government officials who instigated the human rights violations have not been brought to justice and some still work in their departments. The rapid economic growth that accompanied the adoption of westernized economic policies caused huge divisions between socioeconomic classes. While Chile is often referred to as “Latin America’s success story”, the “success” is really only felt by the upper classes. I live in the wealthier part of Santiago and when I travel around and see different parts of the city, it is very clear to me that not all of Chile benefits from what Pinochet began.

So with a little more time and some knowledge about the country’s history and current issues, I started recognizing some differences between Chile and the US. While the divisions between social classes also exist in the US, in Chile the different classes barely interact with each other. I had the opportunity to attend a diverse high school and a college with a strong dedication to ensuring that those with limited resources can still receive a quality education. Coming to Chile, and seeing how the education system perpetuates the socioeconomic divisions, I realize even more how unique of an experience I have. Another difference appears in family structures. I would not necessarily say that family is more important here than in the US; Chileans express their love for each other in actions and words more so than back home. Interestingly, this cultural difference becomes apparent in healthcare. In my seminar about Chile’s healthcare system, we visited the Clínica Familia, a type of hospice care that attends to the spiritual and physical well being of terminally ill patients. It is the only clinic of its kind in the Santiago area and not very well known. A Chilean family will usually take care of its terminally ill members at home, but sometimes the family does not have the resources so the clinic will step in. In the US, hospice care is fairly well known and is used a lot more often than in Chile. It’s fascinating seeing how different cultural norms create unique systems.

In the middle of September, I had the opportunity to travel to Bolivia and volunteer with a small community called Chirimoyas. Established around 3 years ago from a chunk of land previously owned by one landowner, the community is working on making the land viable for crop production and developing the community into a safe, healthy, and prosperous town for its members. In the middle of the jungle close to the Brazilian border, I could slow down completely and really look at myself from an outside perspective. These people had no running water during our stay (the motor in the well was broken), the children ran around barefoot playing soccer on hard, rocky ground, a little girl told me she wanted my skin color because she thought hers was ugly, and some the houses didn’t have walls to block the winds. This made me feel guilty knowing that these people will work so hard to receive one small percentage of the opportunities I have received through my sheer luck of being born in the US.

Yes, this experience made me grateful for the basic material goods I have in Santiago and Grinnell, but it also helped me prioritize my life differently. Coming from Grinnell, with the atmosphere entirely driven by how much you need to read and how high you can get your grades before finals, study abroad has provided a fresh start and a new perspective. There is no better way to develop awareness about other ways of life than to actually live them, something no amount of studying or reading can substitute.

Bolivia: Chirimoyas

For some thoughts on the rest of my trip to Bolivia, click here.

           The highlight of my trip to Bolivia in September was a short visit to Chirimoyas, a community established around 3 years ago from a chunk of land previously owned by one landowner. Valeria worked as a volunteer to get this land out of the pockets of one person and back to the hands of the people. Those who settled there came from all walks of life, from indigenous to city dwellers, but had one thing in common: they needed land to start a new life and a fresh start. The community is working on making the land viable for crop production and developing a safe, healthy, and prosperous town for its members. It was amazing finally seeing a type of agrarian reform in action, instead of just hearing about the huge inequalities of land distribution in South America from Spanish classes.
           I had the opportunity to learn more about how this community started, meet some of the amazing people who live there, and experience life in Chirimoyas first hand, the struggles and the triumphs. This experience really made me slow down and appreciate everything I have. Even though the visit was shorter than I anticipated, only 3 full days, Chirimoyas left more of an impression on me than 2 years at Grinnell.

Bottom right: map of Bolivia. Bottom left: map of the region Santa Cruz de la Sierra. Top left: hard to make out, but the darker gray rectangular-ish region is Chirimoyas. If you're good at reading maps, you can see where Chirimoyas is located. Right above the "M" in "Jose Miguel de Velasco", a little to the west of the triangle indent on the eastern border of Bolivia.

           The trip from La Paz to Chirimoyas started out around noon on Sunday, the 15th of September and we finally arrived around 2 am Tuesday. 32 hours of driving was an adventure. The ticket salespeople in bus stations would drag us around trying to sell us their tickets, claiming  their buses were the most luxurious available. Obviously they were just trying to make a sale. Then, from Santa Cruz to Chirimoyas, we had car trouble because the company hadn't done maintenance on the van for years. Then, the driver left us in a town 2 hours away from Chirimoyas saying that he didn't know the directions. But in the end we ended up getting there safe and sound. The views from the drive were unforgettable, so it made up for the logistical chaos.

           We set up our tents in the town-wide gathering space because no one was awake. While I was lying inside the tent listening to the sounds of roosters crowing, dogs barking, and bugs zooming around outside, it began to sink in that I was in a completely different world.

Welcome to the agro-ecological community "Chirimoyas" We slept in the building in the background the first night, and then to the left further back the other two nights. The building style is the norm.

          The town had a completely different energy than anything I've experienced, it was close to the tranquility I've felt at campfires from church camp. The days were so long; the first day I was there it felt like a week. Not necessarily because a lot of things happened or because I was extremely tired. On the contrary, I felt rejuvenated and refreshed; time just seemed to pass differently there. Anywhere I walked, I could look people in the face and smile and get a "Buen Día" (good day) in return. That sense of community and connection reminded me a little of Minnesota-nice and the close-knit campus of my college.
           In addition to the energy felt while I was there, the views of the surrounding forest were spectacular. We took a one-hour hike in the middle of the jungle, no path, to a rock that offered a magnificent view of the trees below.

We climbed over fallen trees, ducked under hanging palm trees, and pulled off lots of ticks in the end. And I got a pretty bad sunburn.

It stretched out all around us, for miles and miles.

           One night, Valeria needed to make a cell phone call. So what did we do? Drove 10 minutes up the red dirt road and climbed to the top of another rock. The only place Chirimoyas had signal! That night we had clear skies and a full moon. At the top of the rock Valeria and I were talking about how we felt an absolute tranquility up here. The trees surrounding us, the moon shining down, the shooting stars... it was "paz total" (total peace).

And yet...

           Poverty. All the while, I was thinking about this awesome article. While I was feeling rejuvenated, energized, and refreshed from being cut off from the city, I had this itch in the back of my brain. These people are suffering from a lack of resources. Even though they seem to live in a paradise, they struggle for everyday things we ALWAYS take for granted. The children only go to school until age 12. Even that's rare; some of them go to work before their done with their education because they need to make MONEY. The children play in the rough dirt road with flip flops or no shoes. Even though they could grow their own food, they don't have the farming resources so they eat the cheapest food they can find: rice and the peanuts they're able to cultivate, no vegetables. The papayas that grow abundantly on trees here are considered less valuable than water. The first day we had water no problem. The second day the motor broke and there was no water to wash your hands, clean the food, and drink. These people need to get resources like tractors and teachers in order to make their community into a sustainable, safe, and healthy town for the people who live there.
           Like I mentioned before, Chirimoyas is working on getting the land ready for chia, sesame, and peanut production. They need the land in order to make a living.  But the rainforest is shrinking every year. I got stuck in a moral dilemma while I saw some of that deforestation happen while I was cruising down the red dirt road in the back of a motorcycle wagon drinking a beer. It was a wild experience, living two realities at once: seeing people tear down the rainforest while seeing people living in poverty because they can't grow enough food right now. I'm not sure how to resolve this conflict in my head.

The road that passes through inside the forest, leading to the peanut crops.

The man driving the tractor paused to take a swig of beer before getting back to work.

And it's... gone.

This man is throwing peanuts in the air, using the wind to separate the dirt and leaves from the actual peanut.

           Valeria spends a considerable amount of time volunteering with Chirimoyas to start different programs that could bring money into the town, from making beehives to sell honey to creating a website to capture some tourism. While I only saw a completely superficial tour of the town, and barely got to know the people I shared meals with, I felt a really strong pull to go back and work with them on education or female empowerment. Time will tell whether I end up going, but I hope someday I can go back to Chirimoyas and get to know its people better, to step back from all the materialism and appreciate a different life.

Bolivia: La Paz and Samaipata

                For 12 days, I had the opportunity to see more of South America by traveling around Bolivia. The main goal of the trip was to travel to Chirimoyas, a rural community in northeast Bolivia close to the Brazilian border. Established around 3 years ago from a chunk of land previously owned by one landowner, the community is working on making the land viable for crop production and developing the community into a safe, healthy, and prosperous town for its members. More details about my time there will come in a later blog post.
          I traveled with Erika (my host mother), Valeria (a woman from La Paz Erika met during an earlier excursion to Bolivia), and Jesse (a 20-year-old from Holland traveling around South America who met Valeria). So many random connections between the four of us made me feel like it was something more than coincidence that brought us all together at this specific time and this particular place to experience Bolivia. It was a weird feeling. I'm very grateful I could experience such a beautiful country, travel with some really interesting people, and spend time with a rural community just starting to make their place in the world. Even though it was a very superficial tour of the country, with a great deal of time spent traveling from place to place, I still felt rejuvenated and a bit more connected to my place in the world.

The route I ended up taking. The airplane ride made multiple stops there and back, allowing me to see some more of the geography of Chile: ocean, cordillera, desert... Chile seems to have it all. The sites in black are where I spent the most time.

La Paz, Bolivia

           A city like no other. The cerros of Valaparaíso/Viña del Mar in Chile cannot compare to the cerros of La Paz. The city is basically a bowl, with the buildings reaching up into the mountains and spreading across the hills. Although Valpo/Viña has colorful houses to paint the views, La Paz has earth with tones of green, gray, brown, and red to create a mural of natural colors. We spent 3 days here, at Valeria's house with her family. We got to celebrate the birthday of her daughter by climbing La Muela del Diablo (The Devil's Molar) and eating pies at a mini birthday party. Pictures obviously can't do the views justice, but I tried.

La muela del Diablo

Driving up to La muela del Diablo, we got a chance to snap some photos of the city below. Absolutely breathtaking: clouds rolling over the mountainsides and the city enveloping the hills. The curving road full of huge potholes made it a little nerve-racking, but we still got to the top safe and sound.

           

One of the many views at the top of La muela

           We wandered around the city and encountered paceñas (women dressed in big ruffled skirts, shawls, and hats), markets that stretched for dozens of blocks, hundreds of shops selling colorful textiles, and lots of garbage. Unfortunately, Bolivia doesn't have a great infrastructure to take care of the environment and there isn't much awareness about the damage litter does to the land. So huge piles of garbage contaminate the otherwise wonderful landscape. Overall, La Paz is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever been to. Hopefully one day I can go back to learn more about its people and see more of the views.

Paceñas: the woman on the left also has a backpack made out of colorful fabric, something seen almost everywhere.

A small part of one of the many open air markets throughout the city. They're pretty much the norm.

3 guesses for what these are! :)
Potatoes!! Bolivia is known for having all different kinds of potatoes. Tunta are made in a very complicated process that involves storing them in the high altitudes to freeze and preserve them. That's how they get their distinct white color.

Cinnamon!!

Samaipata, Bolivia

           A very touristy town 3 hours outside of Santa Cruz. The drive there was gorgeous; we were following a mini river most of the time with bluffs and green forests on either side. In the town itself, some of the original architecture remains while some of the buildings boast a more modern feel. Some of the travelers who come through here are people who earn their living while they travel: they make jewelry or juggle at stoplights to earn enough money for food, lodging, and then a ticket to their next destination. While I don't have the mentality or the flexibility to live like that, I admire their strength and willingness to absolutely go with the flow.

           The highlights of my time there include: having a monkey crawl on my back at an animal refuge

and discussions with my host mother about Catholic churches in Bolivia and the rest of the world. We wandered around two churches in Bolivia, one in La Paz and the other in Samaipata. We even crashed a wedding ceremony the night we stayed in Samaipata! I don't remember the last time I was in a Catholic church in the States, so I don't know how these pictures compare to the inside of one back home:

The church in Samaipata. According to my host mother, this is one of the more modest ones. You can see that the virgin image is front and center, with other saints surrounding it. On the sides, there were other statues of virgins and Jesus. Each town has its own virgin representing the community. At the back of the church, there was even a coffin that displayed a mannequin of Jesus's body, showing the wounds from the spear and the nails. I saw various people touch the statues and then cross themselves.

The church of San Francisco in La Paz, clearly more extravagant than the one in Samaipata but still showing the same motifs of actual statues depicting saints and other holy figures.

           I definitely do not mean to offend or put down anyone who practices the Catholic faith when I say these reflections; they're just my personal reactions to what I was experiencing based on my upbringing and values.

           I felt very uncomfortable walking around these churches and seeing all the figurines. One of the most notable things in protestantism is the absence of all "idols," statues, or figures of Jesus and God. So that's what I'm used to seeing, and naturally what I most agree with. I think it's a bit weird that people will make images of the figures they worship. To me it makes it more tangible and in a way less meaningful than if you create your own personal image of God. Also, the fact that most people are still fed the image of a blue-eyed Caucasian Jesus bugs me. It reinforces that idea of "whiteness" equaling the ideal of purity and beauty. The fact that so much money has gone into decorating these churches with real gold and fancy fabrics instead of into directly helping others (something that many churches of all types struggle with) is another thing that makes me raise my eyebrows.

           But with all that pushed aside, it was definitely a positive experience seeing the churches. Even though we have different ways of expressing and practicing our faith, we still worship the same God. That's one humbling fact that overpowers any sort of divisions within a church or between denominations.

Sorry guys, but baby Jesus was most likely not a rosy-cheeked redhead with that cut-and-paste hairstyle from the 40's.

In general...

           One thing that is super convenient about Bolivia is that it is SO cheap. Hostels are about 4 dollars per night and a huge plate of food is around 2 dollars. It does make me feel weird and a little guilty though, knowing that I'm taking advantage of their economy so I can travel. It makes me really aware of how privileged I am that I grew up in a place with clean food, water, and free education. For Bolivians, these are basic rights that people struggle to find everyday. I know that sounds like every other sentence anyone says when they reflect upon their experiences in "developing" countries, but it really is something you don't realize until you see it first hand. I'm incredibly grateful for four things: first, not having to pay for my primary education; second, having high quality education with resources that help me prepare for the future (things not even considered when the basics are still being worked on); third, that my native language was the same as the instructor's; and fourth, that I wasn't pressured at home to work in a dangerous mine for less than two dollars a day or in agriculture with dangerous pesticides.

           Everyday in Bolivia brought something new and challenging, but I feel like I came out of this trip a little more comfortable with the unknown and little more trusting that everything will figure itself out in the end.

Stay tuned for the blog post about Chirimoyas, the biggest part of this adventure. :)

Hasta luego!