It takes a huge amount of planning, courage and desperation to make it to the United States without a visa. It’s a heart-wrenching decision to leave behind your family to go to a country where you don’t speak the language, live in constant fear of being deported and work in harsh conditions for little pay. Most people I’ve met took whatever job they could find, worked very hard and sent back the remittances to their families. To give you an idea of how important this flow of money has become, last year remittances sent back to Ecuador from abroad accounted for over $4 billion, making it the second biggest source of national income after petroleum exports.

From an economic stand-point, it makes sense. Marco, a Spanish teacher I met in Baños, spent seven years working in Italy. He made more in one month cleaning houses and cooking for wealthy Florentine families than in a year in Ecuador. With the money he earned, he opened a shoe store in Baños and purchased a house for his family. Given that as a child he still remembers when his mother worked as a slave under Ecuador’s hacienda system, or encomienda system, he has certainly come along way. (A quick aside: even as late as the 1960s, in many parts of rural Ecuador people were bought and sold with the land they lived on, working  permanently as indentured servants.)

My time spent in Ecuador has made me feel both lucky and somewhat guilty to have been born in America. While the process of applying for a visa to come here was annoying, I knew I would get one. I have a bank account and I could afford a round-trip plane ticket– the two things most countries check for when you say you want to spend more than a few months. But when people here ask me if it would be hard for them to come to the United States, I’m honest with them. Yes, I say, it will be hard. Even if you can afford the round-trip plane ticket (the equivalent of three month’s average gross income in the town where I’m staying), if you don’t own a house, car or have a bank account, American immigration officials will be skeptical that you plan on returning before your visa expires.

“That’s not fair,” they tell me. I shrug my shoulders, “No, it isn’t fair. But unfortunately that’s just how it is.”

What’s your opinion? Politics aside, if you were in a similar situation and were presented with the option to work abroad, would you take it? Would you risk going without documents?

Dan Malin is currently volunteering as the coordinator for the Intag Spanish School, a development project of CASA Interamericana. For more on his experiences, check out his blog or follow him on Twitter.

Where I volunteer, in the community of Pucará, most people live off small-scale agricultural production. But the community has plans to construct a paradero along the main road, which would house a community-run visitor center, restaurant and Internet cafe. From there, local guides can take visitors on hikes through some of the most stunning and biodiverse forests in the world. According to the Intag Cloud Forest Reserve website, this area contains “approximately 15-17% of the world’s plant species and nearly 20% of its bird diversity (1,666). For both groups, the endemism is astonishingly over 40%.” Across the street, the Intag Spanish School already employs local youth as Spanish teachers. It offers immersion lessons to travelers while providing an economic incentive for the town’s young people to remain in Pucará.

From what I can see, there is a deliberate strategy taking shape here. That’s good, because ever since tourism began to pick up in the 1990s, tourists have concentrated exorbitant wealth in a handful of locations. (Quito, Baños and the Galápagos Islands come to mind.) And even within a city like Quito, travelers tend to favor La Mariscal District (aka Gringolandia) and El Centro Histórico. If they venture out into the country’s national parks, tour companies often make deals with specific lodges and guides, bypassing local communities. It’s a serious problem and one worth addressing: how can the average traveler help protect the natural environment and respect the communities he or she visits? Well friend, have we got some links for you!

If you’re interested in minimizing your environmental impact and providing direct financial benefits for local people and conservation efforts, check out these helpful resources below:

- The International Volunteerism Resource Center, provided by the folks at Idealist.org, can help you make informed decisions about volunteering abroad.

- The International Ecotourism Society (TIES) is committed to helping organizations, communities and individuals promote and practice the principles of ecotourism.

- Responsible Travel offers sustainable travel ideas and locally distinctive, authentic holidays that are better for destinations and local communities.

- Volunteer South America regularly updates a list of hundreds of free and low-cost volunteer programs. If you’re thinking of volunteering in South America, look no further.

- Tourism Concern fights exploitation in tourism and campaigns for more ethical, fairly traded forms of tourism.

Check out these posts by other La Vida Idealist bloggers for more on the environment and sustainability in Latin America.

Or is it? In the years since that first encounter, my relationship with the word has evolved considerably. I’ve heard it used offensively, but also as a term of affection (¡Mi gringito!) and nonchalantly like any other Spanish descriptor. In the Spanish-speaking world, and definitely in Ecuador, people tend to describe exactly what they see. So to refer to someone as niña, gordo or negro, doesn’t necessarily imply anything offensive. Perhaps it’s the same with gringo. But then again, it still stings when someone I don’t know shouts the word at me.

Dressed for any type of weather, a gringo often comes prepared.

I did some research to better understand the origins of the word gringo(a), and I found two recurrent explanations. One claims that gringo derives from the word griego, or greek, used to refer generally to light-skinned Europeans. The second says that the word comes out of the early 20th Century, when the United States frequently sent troops to occupy various Latin American countries. Apparently, local people, tired of American occupying forces, would shout at the green-clad uniformed soldiers, “Green Go!” as they passed by. “Green-Go” became gringo and the word stuck.

I find neither explanation enitrely convincing. Whatever the origins, the word complicates my experience as a volunteer living in a rural, Ecuadorian agricultural community. Even when used passively or affectionately, for me it’s an uncomfortable reminder of the gap that separates us culturally and economically.

Do you find the word offensive, an embarassing stereotype? Or is it much to do about nothing? Does it even apply to you? I’ve heard the word used to refer to anyone from the U.S., so it sometimes seems to transcend race. If you are currently working, volunteering or traveling in Latin America, do you have your own gringo story? Let’s hear it.

To read more about Dan’s adventures in Ecuador, check out his personal blog: http://danmalin.wordpress.com

Photo from Flickr user Julia Smith

The business of haggling is a sticky subject. On the one hand, you’re probably going to get a better price than anything you’d find in your home country. I often ask myself, do I really need to save that extra two bucks? But then there is also the desire to adapt to the local culture, and the immense pressure to get a fair price. How does one negotiate in these circumstances without seeming like a total jerk?

Having sought advice from friends here in Ecuador, I’ve found that following some basic rules can make the experience of visiting any local outdoor market much more pleasant and civil.

1) Try to begin the conversation with anything other than, “Cuánto cuesta?” A short pleasantry should suffice.

2) As a general rule, going lower than about 20-25% of the asking price is going to seem rude.

3) Your local dealer will not be offended if you ask for a discount in exchange for buying in bulk. Try purchasing a few extra alpaca hats to get a better price. They make great stocking-stuffers anyways.

4) It’s acceptable to haggle more aggressively over obviously mass-produced items. I think that T-shirts (especially the same ones you see everywhere) are fair game.

5) If you visit the market later in the afternoon, most vendors will already have mentally lowered their prices if business has been slow, making bargaining much easier.

6) Finally, and this is my opinion, I like to buy from vendors who are friendly, who readily explain how their goods were made and who don’t try to drag you into their shop.

If you can’t remember these suggestions when the time comes, just try to follow the golden rule: be nice. Smile, say please and above all else, don’t shout prices at people.

You can read all about the other cultural mistakes I’ve made in Ecuador on my blog at http://danmalin.wordpress.com/

Back in September-October of 2009, I was living in Brooklyn and working part-time while I hunted for jobs. I did have a few small successes, but for the most part my resumes were met with deafening silence. Feeling frustrated and anxious that I wasn’t using my degree, I completely changed strategies and re-focused on moving abroad. I applied to the Peace Corps in September and I received a nomination within a few short weeks. While a nomination is far from a guaranteed invitation and placement, I took it as an encouraging sign that I was on the right track.

I then made the decision to return to the country where I studied abroad two years ago. I booked a plane ticket to Quito, without a plan, without a job, but with the conviction that I would find something that would allow me to grow both professionally and intellectually, all while getting the chance to do a little good in the world. As an aside, I hope to one day make a career out of spreading cross-cultural understanding and goodwill through service learning, so I figured I’d find something that would help me on my way. A month later, however, I felt waves of doubt flood over me as my departure date drew near. What was I thinking? How could I have been so reckless as to gamble so much time and money on nothing more than a vague notion that I would “figure it out” along the way?

I was about to give up and continue my fruitless job search in New York, when finally my strategy paid off. After pouring over what must have been hundreds of websites for organizations in Ecuador, I eventually found one that felt like a good fit. While my current position as an Intercultural Coordinator is unpaid, it at least gives me the chance to test out what it’s like to be the broker between two cultures, and to learn the ins and outs of coordinating a volunteer-based project abroad.

I am very excited to contribute to La Vida Idealist, a blog which I have read with great interest since its earliest days. I hope to shed some light on what us college grads are up to during these tough economic times, and how serving abroad can and will pay off in the long run. I also hope that I don’t get any parasites. Some things, however, are simply out of your control.