Make sure to go see the towering volcanoes above Ibarra

Those volunteering in Ecuador for an extended period of time should find plenty of opportunities to explore the country. Whether your preference lies on or off the beaten path, Ecuador has something for everyone, no matter your physical shape, time or budget. Here are some recommendations of things to do in this beautiful, diverse country:

1. Visit the hot springs of Papallacta: Just a couple of hours away from Quito, Termas de Papallacta makes for a relaxing day trip from the city. For $7, you can soak in the thermal baths here, while watching hummingbirds buzz around in the surrounding vegetation. For those with a bit more cash, an overnight stay is recommended.
2. Whale-watching on the Pacific Coast: During the months of June to September, humpback whales can be spotted along the coast off Ecuador. Puerto López is a sleepy coastal town from which tours can be arranged to see these majestic animals breaching the water.
3. Quilotoa Loop: For an exciting three-day trip from Quito, visit the remote Quilotoa Loop. Challenging to reach by public transport, the area boasts outstanding natural beauty, a spectacular crater lake, excellent hiking and horseback riding, and a chance to peek into the lives of the colorful local indigenous communities.
4. Maquipucuna: Animal lovers will especially enjoy this eco-lodge, set amid pristine cloud forest and surrounded by spectacular wildlife. In the summer months, the rare spectacled bear can even be spotted! 
5. Iñaquito Market: Typifying traditional local life in the capital city, the bustling Iñaquito market in the north of Quito is a true cultural experience. Come here to buy your local groceries, sample some regional food, or just walk around and take in its sights and sounds.
6. Baños: If you love outdoor activities or nightlife, Baños is the spot for you. During the day, indulge in biking, rafting, rappelling or hiking. At night, hit up the town’s buzzing local night spots. If you’re lucky, you may even get a glimpse of the highly active Tungarahua volcano.
7. Catch the Symphonic Orchestra in Quito: For an evening of fine classical music and the chance to see the best musical talent Ecuador has to offer for only $5-10, head to Casa de la Música. Some events are even free. Check out upcoming events here.


Looking for gifts to bring home from Ecuador? Check out the Otavalo market north of Quito!

8. Climb the mighty Cotopaxi Volcano: Not for the fainthearted, a climb up one of the highest active volcanoes on Earth, Cotopaxi, starts at midnight and takes approximately five to seven hours to summit. It should be undertaken with a licensed guide. Biking downhill from the refuge is also an option.
9. Otavalo Market: Shop until you drop at one of the largest artisan markets in South America. On early Saturday mornings, head slightly out of town to the animal market for some great photographic opportunities. The indigenous market in the center of town (Plaza de Ponchos) is there every day, but Saturday is the busiest day of the week and has the most variety. For those that cannot get to Otavalo, the Mercado Artesanal on Jorge Washington in Quito has a similar range of products.
10. Explore the Jumandy Caves : Close to the jungle towns of Archidona and Tena, the Jumandy Caves can be visited daily. Tours include swimming by flashlight through the dark caverns and plunging into deep pools.

Today’s guest post comes from Rob Gradoville, a current Kiva Fellow, Rotary Scholar, and Fulbright Fellow in Cusco, Peru. Since 2005, Rob has been thinking about the best way to provide the basic services that rural folks in the developing world want and need most: clean water and electricity. During his undergraduate days he designed a water pumping system for a coffee cooperative in Nicaragua, and was hooked by every aspect of the work. He later worked with the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic, bringing water, improved sanitation, and electricity to a mountain village over the course of his stay. Returning to graduate school he focused on environmental sustainability of service provision, and managed an Engineers Without Borders water pumping and distribution project for a village in Ecuador. Given his myriad experiences in international development work and his familiarity with some of the best-known programs for working and volunteering abroad, his post today seeks to inform would-be-do-gooder’s just what to expect from working and living la vida Idealist. Check out his last two posts, which discussed the value of overseas service-trips & overseas learning workshops and Fulbright Fellowships & Rotary Scholarships.

To recap: I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Peace Corps,overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as foreign workers in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

The Peace Corps

The author's village in the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic.

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I served as a “Healthy Environments” volunteer in the Dominican Republic from 2007 to 2009. Peace Corps is something I can’t stop thinking about.  It is a mix of training, really independent work, and unique field research.  I lived in the mountains with 200 villagers, without ready access to clean water, adequate sanitation, electricity, you name it.  I bathed in the river every day, collected drinking water from a spring with the locals, and really slooooooooowed down for a bit.

I was sent there to help my village gain access to clean, piped water.  I ended up doing that, learning a lot about what it means to be poor and not receive any attention, and working on a bunch of other projects.  The first 3-5 months I was pretty uncomfortable, lonely, even scared at times.  But in the next year and a half I built closer relationships than many of mine in the states and felt much more comfortable, happy, and alive than I have ever felt in the USA.  My time was filled with sun, pipes, wrenches, concrete, donkeys, mud, plantains, mangoes, rice, beans, grants, paperwork, and more community meetings that I can count.

Peace Corps is really an in-depth, immersive service-learning experience.  Nothing is sugar-coated for you, and that might scare you at first.  But as an insider view of a different culture and a different way of life, there is absolutely nothing like it.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

First three months are language, culture, and technical training.  After that Peace Corps staff tell you to call X number 24-hours a day for health problems, Y number 24-hours a day for other problems, drop you off in a village where you probably only speak a little bit of the local language, and say GOOD LUCK!  They tell you that you will be receiving around $300/month with which you are supposed to live, work, pay rent, buy food, all that.

In short, the Peace Corps provides the most basic structure for survival but beyond that you are on your own.  They also try to pair you up with a community that has need for your specific skill-set.  For me it worked out great.  For others, it was a mess and they had to “make it work” on their own, demonstrating their value and getting involved where they felt they could help.  Peace Corps REQUIRES you to be extremely independent, proactive, and outgoing.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Yes and yes – I brought engineering skills to a village that needed them.  I also am kinda stubborn, which helped with motivation in an area that was used to beingpobre, having nada, and expecting nada. Sometimes the match of your skills meshes perfectly with the needs of the community.  If it doesn’t, you better suck it up, find where you are needed, and make it happen.  Peace Corps is an opportunity to guide the development of a poorer area, from the inside out, and will test you in every way.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Peace Corps doesn’t cost you one cent.  They will fly you from you house to the host country, teach you some language skills, some technical skills, and plant you in a community with a family that will take care of you for two years. When it’s all over, they will fly you back home and give you around $6,000 to “re-adjust” to the United States. It is an amazing deal, and I really hope to do it again some day.  On the other hand there is some significant investment of time (2 years of service and three months of per-service training).  On the whole, when I was at home two years later with $6,000 in my pocket, I was financially about the same place as many of my friends who had taken more traditional paths.

5) Was it Worth it?

Yes.  I am a huge fan.  The application and interview process is very rigorous and trying, and the average time between applying and being given an overseas position is usually 6-9 months, but it is well worth it.  Even if you leave your country of service without thinking you “helped” as much as you should have (this is almost universal, by the way), you leave with a very personal relationship with your host-family and community.  That relationship will affect the way you live your life, the perspectives you can understand, and overall, your level of solidarity with people who drew the short straw in life, for whatever reason.  It is not easy or straightforward, but as is a common phrase among RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers), that this is “the toughest job you will every love.”

Kiva Fellowship

A group of Kiva borrowers just outside the city of Cusco.

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I am currently a Kiva Fellow with Asociación  Arariwa in Cusco, Peru. If you are reading the Stories From The Field blog you probably have a good idea of what we do.  But if you don’t, I am proud to say that Kiva is one of the most organized experiences of this sort that I have participated in.  I was trained for a week in San Francisco(LONG 11-hour-days, where you learn a LOT!), paired with a microfinance organization somewhere in the world, given a desk, given specific tasks (but still the freedom to innovate and take on news tasks as they may appear), and given a lot of support from Kiva Fellows Program staff.  If I need to talk to someone in San Francisco, I can do it probably tomorrow.  If not, I can just keep showing up to my office and working with my in-country partners.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

As I mentioned above, I was given a work-plan that I am expected to accomplish for Kiva.  They maintain long relationships with their in-country microfinance partners and can look strategically at what most needs improvement at a specific point in time.  Kiva Fellows are eyes, ears, and boots-on-the-ground implementers for all it is that Kiva does.  There is no long period of ‘figuring out what to do’ because you arrive with a very good idea of what needs to be done.  But Kiva is a very innovative startup, with an environment that breads creativity.  I have never felt stifled by any Kiva staff, and that has allowed me to enjoy each day of this Fellowship.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Kiva Fellows do important work, work that keeps Kiva not only up and running, but allows them to explore new avenues of growth and innovation.  It is exciting seeing directly the improvements you make with Kiva and your partner microfinance institution.  It is also exciting to be given the chance to go meet Kiva borrowers, meet the loan officers that facilitate those loans, and hear, feel, see how these small loans are such a source of hope and improvement for people all over the world.  I studied engineering, and have not had a problem keeping up with the financial work involved with the position.  I would say if you are comfortable with mathematics and basic accounting you can expect to be utilized very well by a Kiva Fellowship.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

The one major downfall of a Kiva Fellowship is that there is no financial support beyond basic health insurance coverage.  Fellows fundraise or directly pay for their time overseas, including the flight to San Francisco for training, the flight overseas, rent, food, etc.  This can be a substantial burden, but I think that the experience is worth the expense.  It is an investment in your personal growth, and allows you to help in a significant capacity with a major player in the world of global investment/philanthropy.

5) Was it Worth it?

Yes.  It is not as easy to say yes because, let’s be honest, a number of other programs don’t require a financial investment up front.  But the Kiva Fellows Program gives you a look into what I consider to be one of the most promising approaches to creatively finance progress and development overseas.  Like most things, and exactly like Kiva borrowers all over the world, you have to invest something financially to reap the benefits later on.

It is a bottom-up approach, and relies on the sensibilities of millions of entrepreneurs.  Kiva provides a loan.  Borrowers decide how to use it to improve their own lives.  In this way, you can be sure that the funds are used for something truly productive.  It is a simple concept, but to keep that bridge open Kiva needs your help.  Kiva NEEDS Kiva Fellows.  Entrepreneurs NEED Kiva Fellows.  And that is why the experience is so worth it.  You can be that person, fill that need, and learn a ton in the process.

*          *          *

There you have it.  Those are my impressions.  I hope this was helpful but now it is up to you to decide.  To each his own!

To recap: I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Peace Corps,overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as foreign workers in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

FULBRIGHT GRANT

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I am currently a Fulbright Scholar here in Peru, working with PACC-Peru on water resources issues associated with climate change in the Andes Mountains. My opinion of Fulbright is very good, though it seems to be relatively front-loaded.  The application process is very rigorous, and at the end of the day requires two very polished essays- one about who you are, and one about what you want to do as a Fulbrighter- and collaboration with a host-institution overseas, which eventually needs to write a letter of support for your work. Once in-country you are given a short (in my case, one-day) orientation by the local Fulbright staff, then are sent off to your location of study.  (Every country is different, and many include a 3-day orientation in Washington DC before departure from the United States, but mine country was not included in this event.)  Upon arrival you discuss that finely tuned research proposal with your host-institution, making modifications that range from slight variations to complete redirection, and you go on your way, exploring whatever you set out to explore.  You are not babysat, you are encouraged to get to know the country, and you are reminded that the research is only part of your experience.  Most Fulbrighters need to be reminded to chill out, not the other way around.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Once in country, the Fulbright experience is very open.  You receive a monthly living stipend to cover all of your expenses, and are asked to “check in” once a month just to let the Fulbright Commission know how everything is going.  In this way you really can do anything you want, as long as it is communicated with your host-institution.  I think this would be a daunting challenge if I hadn’t had significant overseas experience previously.  From another perspective, it is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do and study whatever gets you going!  You are in the driver’s seat.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Fulbrighters are listened to.  It is regarded as a very prestigious grant in both the United States and overseas (though I imagine this can depend on the host country).  Though  I am only a couple months into my grant, I am aware that my results will not simply be filed away.  They will be read and analyzed.  The potential for helping is very real.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Fulbright is a grant.  All expenses are paid for (after you are awarded the grant).  So, it is a great option if you have a good idea, connections overseas, and the time and patience necessary to get through the application process and overseas experience (about 2.5 years from the start of the application to the end of the grant period).  The application should be started probably 3-6 months before the submission date, which is typically about a year before the date of departure for Fulbrighters.  And, like all competitive things, there is much luck involved.  I would consider Peace Corps a “weed-in” program, where most applicants who sincerely want to help can make their way in.  Fulbright is a fine toothed comb, and even very brilliant people are not accepted for one reason or another.

5) Was it Worth it?

So far, so good.  I can’t help but compare this experience to that which I had in the Peace Corps.  As a Peace Corps Volunteer I was not respected very much by local government, and generally treated as another “missionary” of sorts.  I understood what poverty was, but felt incapable of fixing lots of the problems I saw.  As a Fulbrighter I know that I have access to much more influential people, and I will be listened to.  It seems to me that it is definitely worth it.  As a side note, had I not experienced the Peace Corps, I might have seen the Fulbright experience as semi “normal”.  I live in an apartment, pay bills, and work on my research.  In that way a Fulbright Grant is less of a life-changing experience for me than living in a mountain village; it is complete freedom to explore issues that are important to me, given the support and resources to do so.

ROTARY SCHOLARSHIP

The author concentrating wayyy too hard to try to take a steady photo, looking down on Cusco, Peru.

I am currently a Rotary Cultural Scholar in Peru. Becoming a Rotary Scholar involves an application similar to Fulbright but, in my opinion, it does not have to be nearly as polished of an idea as the Fulbright application process requires.  I am studying Quechua and water resources management with my Rotary funds.  This Rotary Scholarship provides support monetarily.  There is no orientation, no help with overseas planning, and no in-country contact for my work.  I am on my own.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Extremely free.  I have not communicated directly with my grantor more than once in the past two and a half months.  As a Rotary Scholar you define your own structure in the application, and you are expected to follow that plan.  But again, there is no babysitting.  Your experience is what you make of it.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

I am studying here, so I don’t see a direct impact to what I am doing.  Still, I know that Quechua skills will pay dividends in my Fulbright and Kiva work and will be an invaluable skill in the future.  Whereas Peace Corps was immediate gratification (seeing water come out of a pipe), Rotary is about building capacity, namely in people who they think will be able to help further down the line.  It is similar to Fulbright in this way.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Rotary Grants vary in the amount they provide, but they generally are very flexible as to what they can cover.  Flights, insurance, food, lodging, costs of courses and/or tutors, and cultural trips are all fair game.  The grants vary greatly in their duration, but one year seems to be common.  In my case, the funds were dispersed up-front and I am required to provide documentation of all expenses.  Whatever isn’t spent, I will have to give back.

5) Was it Worth it?

Very much so.  More than the funding, Rotary is a global network.  I hope that this experience will help me connect with like-minded people in the future as I may try to continue to “help” those in the world that need it.  As an experience by itself, I think Rotary is amazingly un-regulated.  As a first long-term overseas experience, I would not recommend it.  The structure provided by Peace Corps, Fulbright, and Kiva(discussed below)  are necessary to guide your overseas experience.  That said, if you are an experienced traveler and are looking for some funding to do something creative and open-ended, a Rotary Scholarship might be just what you are looking for.

Check out Part I, which took on overseas service-learning trips and overseas workshops, and stay tuned for Part III, which will Kiva Fellowships and the Peace Corps.

Should I become a Kiva Fellow? I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Fellowship, or have wondered what the comparison is between the Kiva Fellows Program to similar volunteer or development programs abroad. This may include the Peace Corps, overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as a Kiva Fellow in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above. This series of posts will compare and contrast “what it’s like” to be a Kiva Fellow to the myriad other programs out there.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

To that end I will categorize each of the above experience based on five criteria.

1) What it’s Like and What is was Like for Me

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

5) Was it Worth it?

‘Nuff talk.  Enjoy!

Overseas Service Learning

College students working on clean water project in Ecuador, '11.

1) What it’s Like and What It was Like for Me

I designed community water projects in Nicaragua as a student and have directed service learning projects for students to do the same in the Dominican Republic and Ecuador(and will do the same in Peru this coming spring).

Service-learning is really close to my heart because it is how I got pulled out of the sometimes dry world of engineering and into the colorful, inspired, much more complicated world of international development..  As a fourth-year undergraduate engineering student I designed a water pumping and delivery system for a village in Nicaragua. In order to implement this project, I  wrote out a proposal and was granted $10,000 bucks from the Davis “Projects for Peace” Foundation.  This service learning experience showed me for the first time how useful my skills could be in the world.  I have never been as challenged on a daily basis as I was during that project, nor have I have I been as ecstatic to get up every day and work.  My work included engineering design, studying Nicaraguan history and politics, trying to communicate with NGOs overseas and in the states, and learning as much Spanish as possible.  Occasionally I would talk with people in the village itself through skype, and my heartbeat literally doubled from excitement.  That personal connection was something extremely knew and exciting.

Service learning may exist at your university, and may not.  If it does, be proactive and get involved, then make it your own.  If it doesn’t exist, make it happen!  I found like-minded students and professors, and was allowed to work on the first service-learning engineering project at my university.  My last year at college I learned more than I did in the previous three, thanks to this service-learning project.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Usually these are fairly structured, for good reason.  It is part of a class and you have to finish SOMETHING.  Small, bite-sized projects are typical for service-learning experiences.  So, don’t get involved in this if you want to have the freedom to do exactly what you want or possibly scrap your original idea half-way through.  That said, these projects typically are more open to creativity than standard theoretical projects and/or reports.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

My experience was great, and I think I did help.  My service-learning team (engineers and environmental science students) was lucky enough to successfully pair up with NGOs that had follow-through capabilities.  This was very important, as we were new to the work.  Looking back, we were a group of young students trying to change the lives of 350 Nicaraguans.  That is powerful stuff, and if we were alone on the project, I think we would have had little impact or worse, would have set them back.  Make sure you have a good mentor capable of picking up the pieces if you decide to start up a new service-learning project.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

This stuff usually costs some dough.  I would expect it to be around $1000-$3000 extra to do one of these for a semester rather than typical coursework. It is possibly included in your course fees or can tack on an additional couple grand.  Every experience is different.  BUT the good news is that you can dip in the educational funds money-bucket.  Educational grant funds are huuuuuge.  You can probably apply for scholarships, grants, etc. and get away doing this kind of thing almost for free.  If your “project” costs money to implement, that’s another thing.  It will probably be much harder to find funds within your university to go and implement, but look!  Mission programs, international study offices, and outside foundations like the one mentioned above are a good start.

5) Was it Worth it?

As a foot in the door, DEFINITELY.

That said, service-learning is a mixed bag, because it is usually attached to an educational institution (universities) where there is a focus on the educational component for students.  That is great, but sometimes leaves the person/group you were serving a little disappointed.  As service-learning is a partnership between a student-group and clients (overseas or not), there is much time and effort invested on both sides.  The student group will be expected to do more than simply write a final report, in many cases.  Be wary of the impact you are having on the project beneficiaries, and make sure that when you leave they also think it was worth it.  But at the end of the day, if I had not done this I would probably be a much wealthier but much more depressed engineer, sitting in a cubicle somewhere, making calculations.  Therefore I am a huge fan of service learning as a tool to show young people how to engage their community and world, and try to help.  To read an article I published on service-learning click here.

Overseas Workshops

The author soldering together individual solar cells in Nicaragua, 2007

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I participated in a workshop on Appropriate Technologies in Nicaragua with the National Engineering University of Managua, which entailed some basic classes on the physics behind appropriate technologies like solar panels, solar water pumps, biodigestors, solar ovens, rope pumps, composting latrines etc.  We also built our own solar panels, solar cookers, helped construct an adobe building, and practiced our intercultural skills with a “homestay” with a humble Nicaraguan family. I have also participated in a  course on Globalization, Leadership, and Technology that culminated in an overseas conference in Vietnam and Taiwan.  The conference encompassed some very high level, involved visits with CEOs of large corporations and, in my opinion, was very much an outsiders view of a local culture.  The former was a bottom-up approach.

These experiences are similar to service-learning projects being that you are really only expected to learn.  They are also a great foot in the door or a refresher course on field work in a specific part of the world.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

These are very structured. There will probably be a schedule for everything you do, from the time you land on the runway to the time you are swooped back up. They are usually pretty jam-packed and don’t leave much freedom to “do what you want” if it isn’t the specific goal of the workshop.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

The goal of these courses isn’t to ‘make a difference’ at all, or at least directly.  You pay to participate in these courses, and some of those funds may go towards the efforts of an NGO or social movement, but don’t expect to directly have a huge impact on anyone.  I didn’t leave Nicaragua thinking I had helped much, but I was more equipped to do so in the future.  I knew leaving Asia that I hadn’t done anything, but the experience might contribute to my future path in life.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Pricey.  I have seen these offered anywhere from $500-$1500 for a week!  That adds up.  Outside funding is probably harder because of what I said in #3. These courses are similar in price to overseas vacation tours.  The only difference is that on vacation tours you typically sit on a beach, get a tan, and enjoy relaxing.  For those short on time, this is probably a good option.

5) Was it Worth it?

In terms of professional development, for sure.  It is a very unique experience and might inspire you to do more, learn more, etc.  These are typically more serious about transferring knowledge to you than service-learning trips, so in terms of personal bang for your buck they might about the same, even though service learning experiences might be much longer.  Nevertheless, the personal connection to the experience developed over a longer period of time like a service-learning project is unlikely in these shorter trips.

Stay tuned for Parts II and III, which will cover Fulbright Grants, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and the Peace Corps.

My bike packed up, ready for an adventure. Bring it on world.

When people ask me why I’m always moving about, I usually respond with some excuse I cook up on the spot. “Oh, well I’m trying to figure out where I want to settle down,” or “I just enjoy the change in scenery.” Both true, but not the ultimate cause responsible for my nomadic tendencies. That would be the Itch. Also known as wanderlust, though I prefer the term ‘itch’ to ‘wanderlust’ as it captures the peculiar tingling or irritating feeling wanderlust induces.

In my previous update on my personal blog, I mentioned that the itch that began growing in Ecuador expected something more than a change from now familiar surroundings. In addition to the tingling sense telling me to move on, another tingling required adventure. It is difficult to describe, but I knew simply jumping across borders would not satisfy this compulsion.

“This is going to be awesome!” I thought to myself. “I am going to do something legendary, and have great stories when it’s over.”

And so I set out preparing an adventure. It was more impulse than careful consideration that ended in my choosing bicycle touring—long distance cycling—through South America as a great adventure. What could be more adventurous than powering myself, with my own two legs, through foreign lands, my ‘saddlebags’ packed full of my worldly possessions, prepared to handle whatever nature throws my way? I envisioned myself the next Amelia Earhart, Captain James Cook, or Lewis and Clark.

The exhilaration of summiting an 11,000-foot pass: something not sold in stores. Crazed look optional.

In the midst of my preparations (gear lists, spreadsheet budgets, route maps, etc.), that annoying side of my brain—you know, the one that pestered me into a Philosophy major—suddenly perked up with a perturbing question that stopped my planning cold:

“But Casey, what is adventure?”

Such a question might sound silly, but those who know the overly-analytical me well also know that I have to answer these types of questions. After all, if I’m planning an adventure, I better have some inkling of what an adventure looks like.

The dictionary is always a good place to start when you want to know what something is:

adventure: [...] 3. a bold, usually risky undertaking; hazardous action of uncertain outcome.

Seems to be pretty intuitive, no? An adventure isn’t just a risky undertaking, it is a bold risky undertaking, otherwise we wouldn’t admire it as an adventure, but, rather, disdain it as a foolish or reckless undertaking. The second part of the definition also has a certain semantic charm, for who would describe a hazardous action of known outcome as adventurous? Walking in front of a bus is by most accounts hazardous, but hardly an adventure.

So, we have a simple rubric to determine if an activity can be considered an adventure or not:

1. Is it bold?
2. Is it risky?
3. Is it of uncertain outcome?

Huzzah! My bicycle touring plans surely satisfied these three criteria, which should have satisfied that pesky brain. I should have been able to return to the fun questions, such as, “how much water should I carry?” or “should I pack instant coffee or a portable coffee maker?” Unfortunately, that was not the end of my ruminations over adventure.

There I was, surrounded on one metaphorical side by route maps, budget spreadsheets, guidebooks, and bicycle touring blogs, while on the other side loomed the image of adventure placed upon a pedestal, casting its disapproving shadow over the whole lot. How could I possibly claim to be planning an adventure, when every minutiae was carefully considered?

Once you've seen the end of the world, what else is there to see? (Petra, Jordan 2009)

Every centimeter of our little blue-green ball has been scanned and photographed by metal marvels in space. That footage has been analyzed and dumped into your cellphone. Your universally accepted plastic card is a key usable in one of those magic street-side contraptions that spits out money wherever you are (unless it is Discover). Pervasive global communication has annihilated the concept of distance. Using Skype you can wish your dear mum in Boston happy birthday no matter if you’re in Buffalo, Bangalore, or Beijing.

Not to mention those packaged guidebooks detailing every conceivable tourist destination, with precise street maps, and convenient accommodation reviews in three lines or less. Gone are the days of loading out your dog sled train with salt pork, a bushel of apples, and a cask of ale, then heading out into the great white unknown. Between books, e-books, blogs, travel websites, travel magazines, podcasts, and Internet forums, nearly everything you could want to do has not only been done, but been documented in detail online.

All these sources remove the boldness and uncertainty from the equation. You can learn everything there is to know about a trip or destination by reading what others have done without even leaving your home. Moreover, the mere fact that countless people before you have trekked that trail, seen those ruins, or ridden through that country and then blogged about it, makes that undertaking decidedly less bold.

You’re left, then, with just a risky undertaking, but even the risk is tempered by the torrent of information available on the Internet and in books. Every potential mishap can be identified and countered. All that remains is an undertaking, and there’s nothing particularly meaningful or exciting about undertakings. Popping down the street to buy some milk is an undertaking. Hopping onto a plane to the Pyramids is an undertaking. In this light, how is independent travel all that different from mainstream packaged tours? Is travel ever really an adventure in this modern era?

"There's no adventure left in the world! It's all used up!" cries the old grizzly man.

Where does that leave us wanna-be adventurers? Compared to the famous explorers and adventurers, we’re hardly doing anything more exciting than visiting a neighboring town that is more or less the same as ours. Thank you globalization!

Just how much good ol’ adventure is left in the world? If there is any, where and what is it?

This sort of thought isn’t healthy, and I don’t buy into these conclusions. I need to stop these romantic comparisons to famous explorers; it is unfair to ourselves and even disrespectful to their legacy. Adventure still abounds. Achieving it just might take a bit more effort, particularly when it comes to ignoring those modern conveniences that can spoil our adventure with foreknowledge.

There is also something to be said for personal adventure, that is adventure framed in your own personal experience. If you’ve never left your home country, then taking a packaged tour or cruise is definitely an adventure. Hell, for me, navigating the mall during the holiday season can be as much an adventure as climbing volcanoes in the Andes.

Adventure is everywhere, but recognizing it requires a shift in perspective. The English writer G.K. Chesterton eloquently puts this sentiment into words:

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.
—G.K. Chesterton

Take that pesky brain! Adventure is that which puts me outside my comfort zone. It doesn’t matter if I’ve got a cellphone in my pocket, a guidebook in my pack, and a credit card in my wallet, if I’m pumping 60lbs of bike and gear up an Andean slope, or through a Peruvian desert, by golly, I’m having an adventure.

I encourage you to find your adventure wherever it may be.

For more on Casey’s  experiences and reflections on the road, check out his travel chronicle Elusive Truth. You can also check out posts from past La Vida Idealist writers on biking and adventure in Latin America.

Late 2009, I was a classic case of the leave-everything-behind syndrome. Having just finished my philosophical dissertation and stashed it in my professor’s letterbox, I was ready to put its contents – it was a study in ethics – into practice. I gave up my small Berlin apartment along with the odd job I did to pay for it, bought a bunch of flight tickets – and took off on a journey I called Charity Travel.

What I wanted to do was to promote the concept of helping grassroots initiatives in the developing world while traveling. I wanted to show that you could be engaged in other ways than simply giving out donations. Technical, medical, or journalist skills are of great value, as are organizing talent or the ability to expose and connect initiatives in a meaningful way.

In November 2009, a woman I had met in Korea had fallen for the idea. We decided spontaneously to travel around the world together visiting charitable initiatives and building momentum for this thing we called “charity travel.” We were inseparable during the adventure that took us to 40 countries in Africa, Asia, and South America. In April 2011 we married traditionally in South Korea.

Our journey is documented on charitytravel.blogspot.com. We’re not a big organization with public relations, fundraising, and legal departments. We’re typical travelers trying to make a difference.

During that journey I learned two critical lessons for our work. First, the smallest initiatives could use our help the most. Instead of “digging trenches” or performing other tasks such as primary child care or medical check-ups locals should be doing (or trained to be doing), such start-ups are in need of a few simple things: rust, exposure, expertise, and moral support.

Second, intrepid travelers could give these initiatives just that, either first-hand or by connecting them so others they’ve met along the way or online. But how to get people involved? How to connect struggling grassroots initiatives with the world of charity travelers? And more importantly, even if our struggling grass roots initiative manages to make its voice heard, we don’t know if we can trust it.

Meet KindMankind.net. I launched www.kindmankind.net in April 2011 as a website targeting independent travelers with a desire to do good works. But who scouts these invisible promising yet fragile people and their initiatives? This is the task of Kind Mankind’s “independent changemakers.”

These “independent changemakers” travel to communities who need and deserve change and help responsibly. A nurse from Kansas, while on vacation in Nepal, finds a struggling community clinic (not just the ones already mighty enough to launch their own website) and she sets up an “air-bridge” support of clean needles while en passant pointing out the importance of hand washing. A German construction worker spontaneously teaches a two-week course of an advanced technique to local builders in Tanzania – builders that are ‘common people’ and have never heard of NGOs.

They are change makers because they often bring transformational change to a community, contributing their skills to local startup initiatives such as microlending groups, community centers, schools, ecotourism initiatives, sensitizing campaigns, or human rights activists. They are independent because they can take care of themselves and they can help out initiatives that are not well-managed -yet. That means they can have a true impact.

Unlikely? Is creating such opportunities mere opportunism or can it be a vital resource in our quest to make the world fairer and more liveable? Let’s find out!

At long last, the 87th switchback of Cerro 87 comes into sight. My fellow guides and our clients drop our backpacks and set up for breakfast in an ideal spot for the brilliant spectacle still to come.

As I sat munching Quetzaltrekker’s infamous oatmeal/granola concoction I saw my old friend creep up to greet the day. Right on time. The moments before a sunrise are the most beautiful. We stood in awe, too afraid to move for fear we would ruin the perfection, until finally, the sun burst up and over the mountain peak.

To any outsider the Quetzaltrekkers setup, with no boss and all-volunteers, may seem like a precarious balance. How does it work really? Every guide knows this truth within their hearts: the only thing that stands between the kids of Escuela de la Calle and abject poverty is Quetzaltrekker’s success, and this keeps the fire within us stoked and our level of determination high.

Furthermore, these kids are kids we know individually by name, face, age, dreams, fears, and those first signs of teary tantrum on-sets. Every week we get our butts kicked on the soccer field by 13-year-old boys who would make jaws drop in the United States and college scouts salivate. Most kids start learning by kicking a coke bottle on cement streets because they can’t afford a real ball.

Eventually I stopped asking, “Does this place really exist, and can this really work?” because though I can’t explain it, I know firsthand that it does work. For the volunteers it is a way to travel but simultaneously learn about the culture and help make an impact on the local community.

All of the Hogar Abierto children have sad stories to tell. The odds were against them to survive- let alone thrive. I don’t know where they find the strength, but I find my strength in them.

Raised in a culture that spends thousands of dollars for entertainment and escapism I found my sanctuary for free. Quetzaltrekkers led me into the clouds and out of the darkness both literally and metaphorically. For the first time in my life I was happy, content and making a difference. Quetzaltrekkers helped save me just as much as the children it has helped over the past fifteen years, and will hopefully continue to save in the future.

To learn more about Quetzaltrekkers and its programs (or to sign up for a hike), check out their website or this recent NY Times article on the group. For other La Vida Idealist posts on volunteering abroad in Latin America, check out “Part I: Being Quarter-life Idealists in Guatemala” by Whitney Devin, ”Now I’m Ready to Start: Five Tips for Volunteering Abroad” by Megan Kaseburg, “Finding Your Niche as a Short Term Volunteer” by Jennifer Yael Green, or  ”How to Fundraise Your Own Salary: 5 “Easy” Steps“ by Kate Bennett.

Tomorrow morning we will conquer Cerro Ochenta-Siete. That translates to Hill 87- named after the 87 switchbacks you must encounter just to get to breakfast spot. Otherwise known as ‘half-way done.’ But Cerro 87 is also my favorite part of the entire four-day, sixty kilometer trek from the town of Nebaj, Guatemala to the town of Todos Santos. While some people found it the most challenging portion of the hike, many come to recount it as their favorite in the end.

At 4 a.m. the alarm rang signaling the start to our second day. Quickly shoving my sleeping bag into my pack I whispered words of encouragement to those who looked a little anxious and trepid. For some people this would be a walk in the park, for others it would be one of the more physically demanding challenges of their lives. Group speed and ability varied dramatically hike by hike, person by person. I once took a man who had climbed Everest on our two-day trek to the highest point in Central America. Another hike found me leading a legally blind man thirteen-hundred meters down a steep mountain face.

By the time we left it was rounding 4:30 a.m., yet we would pass an average of half-a-dozen locals on our way up the well-worn path. Sometimes we would see a group of woman delicately navigating their way down through the dark, floating over the loose pebbles like ghosts. Only they had feet, and those feet were crammed in ten-cent plastic close-toed sandals. Often men would pass carrying unbelievably large amounts of wood on their back.

The most inspiring feat had to be an elderly man carrying a large wooden table four feet across and twelve-feet long down the steep mountainside. The table barely fit on the path and he had no flashlight to guide him through the darkness. We the tourists with our blinding headlamps moved to the mountainside to let him pass. As a huge toothless smile spread across his face, he chuckled an all-knowing chuckle at the sight of our group and our western ways.

After the expected and friendly “buenas días” he continued on his mission and left us there in silence and awe. My client turned to watch and her eyes followed as he disappeared around the corner. Minutes earlier she had been talking of quitting and turning around. But her mouth dropped open. “I can do this hill now,” she said. “If he can do that, I know I can do this.”

*          *          *

The most impressive thing about Quetzaltrekkers is that the statement, “one-hundred percent profits go to support children of the street,” is not just an advertising slogan. It’s the absolute truth: 100% of Hogar Abierto’s overhead is covered by Quetzaltrekker’s profits; 80% of Escuela de la Calle’s expenses are covered as well (confused about Hogar Abierto and Escuela de la Calle? Check out last week’s post, where we learn about Quetzaltrekker’s nonprofit arm.).

In a country where yes means yes and no means sure, where straight answers are hard to come by and the law is used more or less as a general guide-line, Quetzaltrekkers has proved to be the most reliable and popular trekking agency in all of Quetzaltenango. Critics say a foreign-run group takes jobs from locals, but the truth is that many more jobs are generated from Quetzaltrekkers. Through financing the school, the home, and all the behind-the-scenes people involved in our operation; for food, shelter, transportation we rely on business between locals as well. Quetzaltrekkers is very grassroots, but sometimes the best way to evoke the most change and meaningful influence is by helping handfuls.

To learn more about Quetzaltrekkers and its programs (or to sign up for a hike), check out their website or this recent NY Times article on the group. For other La Vida Idealist posts on volunteering abroad in Latin America, check out “Part I: Being Quarter-life Idealists in Guatemala” by Whitney Devin, ”Now I’m Ready to Start: Five Tips for Volunteering Abroad” by Megan Kaseburg, “Finding Your Niche as a Short Term Volunteer” by Jennifer Yael Green, or  ”How to Fundraise Your Own Salary: 5 “Easy” Steps“ by Kate Bennett. Don’t forget to stay tuned for next week’s post!

Three-thousand three-hundred feet below the mountaintop we will summit tomorrow morning, I sit in a small one-room house on a wooden chair fit for a person of childlike proportions.

The house is lit by a single candle. The faces of my co-guide and our clients are illuminated by the flame’s orange glow as they feast upon a typical Guatemalan dinner of rice, beans and a single hard-boiled egg.

Meanwhile a woman huddles in the corner over a fire stove patting tortillas out faster than even the speediest of eaters could gobble them down. Smack, smack, smack. In mere seconds, the tortillas go from golf-sized dough balls to flat symmetrical circles within the palms of her practiced hands.

“Esto es bastante, gracias Senora,” I say. This is more than enough, thank you. My remark was to no avail. She places yet another stack of a dozen or so corn-tortillas on the table’s plastic, floral covering.

“Muy amable!” I smile and bow my head a little. Not because bowing was customary; I’m doubled over because of the vast amount of tortillas I have just consumed in a single sitting.

One would think that by my tenth trip out to this remote highland-village of Xexecom, Guatemala, I would have figured out that no matter how hard I tried, I will never be able to conquer the impossible task of finishing all the tortillas.

I once asked a Guatemalan friend of mine, “Icias, how many tortillas do you usually eat?”
He shrugged. “Six, if I’m not really hungry. But if I’m hungry, I don’t know….ten.”
“Six to ten a day then?”
“No!” he said. “Six to ten a meal.”
“Oh.”

*       *       *

For the past six months, I have been volunteering with Quetzaltrekkers-Guatemala, the nation’s only non-profit hiking organization, led completely and exclusively by unpaid volunteers like myself. Named after the city from which it originated (Quetzaltenango, Guatemala), Quetzaltrekkers was established in 1995 and has now spread to Quetzaltrekkers-Nicaragua and Condortrekkers-Bolivia. The group was born as a financial solution to fund the Escuela de La Calle (Street School) in Quetzaltenango, which serves children who face extreme poverty. Escuela de la Calle was founded by a British social worker and two progressive Guatemalan teachers; the school works to provide an education to street children in one of the poorest nations in the Northern Hemisphere.

These three founders made a life-changing exchange with the kids of the city’s streets. From the hands of children they took the paper bags lined with glue and designed for huffing, and gave them pencils and notebooks designed for learning. In other words, a ticket out.

In the beginning, classes were held on the streets themselves for any child who wanted to learn. Little by little, enough money was generated to buy land and a building. Today, two-hundred and twenty kids attend Escuela de la Calle.

Escuela de la Calle also offers a rehabilitation program called Hogar Abierto (Open Home) which provides refuge to sixteen children ranging in ages seven to seventeen. Many of these kids once lived in the most rural of villages and many of their families do not have the financial means to support all their children. Some came from abusive backgrounds while others had no families at all.

Quetzaltrekkers is the financial arm of these two organizations. The Quetzaltrekkers office takes all sorts of tourists, from the fit to the not-so-fit on hikes ranging from a half-day to six-days long. Quetzaltrekkers is where these two incredible nonprofits, hiking, and tourists come together.

For other La Vida Idealist posts on volunteering abroad in Latin America, check out “Part I: Being Quarter-life Idealists in Guatemala” by Whitney Devin, ”Now I’m Ready to Start: Five Tips for Volunteering Abroad” by Megan Kaseburg, “Finding Your Niche as a Short Term Volunteer” by Jennifer Yael Green, or  ”How to Fundraise Your Own Salary: 5 “Easy” Steps“ by Kate Bennett. Samantha Camarra recently ended a six-month stint working for Quetzaltrekkers-Guatemala and Quetzaltrekkers-Nicaragua. To learn more about Quetzaltrekkers and its programs (or to sign up for a hike), check out their website or this recent NY Times article on the group. Don’t forget to stay tuned for next week’s post!

Carolyn Chuong

Here’s a tongue twister for you. On Saturday I traveled to the village Mucuchachí for the opening of Mucuposada Mucuchá. I went with an NGO that I’ve been volunteering with called Programa Andes Tropicales (PAT), which is located in Mérida, Venezuela. Andes Tropicales promotes community-based tourism in rural areas of Venezuela where local residents work together to develop tourism infrastructure. The word mucu means “place” in an indigenous language, and mucuposadas are posadas that are owned and supported by families in the Andes Mountains.

Mucuchachí, a small town in the Venezuelan Andes

Our group of ten that went to the village included staff members from Andes Tropicales, a newspaper reporter, community members from nearby villages planning to open their own mucuposadas, and a rambunctious five-year old named Sebastian. We left Mérida early in the morning and traveled by 4×4 on a narrow, windy road through fog and light rain. At one point, the curves were too much for young Sebastian and he wailed out, “No me siento bien (I don’t feel well)!” before promptly vomiting on the side of the road.

When we arrived to Mucuchachí five hours later, the owners of the mucuposada, Omero and Yraida, gave us a warm welcome and served us a delicious lunch of chicken soup, yucca, and homemade cheese. Members of the community began to trickle in and meandered around, chatting with one another. Someone also prepared birúz, which is a traditional hot drink made from ground corn. Curious? Just close your eyes and imagine what liquid popcorn would taste like.

Mucuposada Mucuchá

By the time the inauguration ceremony began, the posada was packed. For over a year, the couple, along with many helping hands, worked tirelessly renovating their home. As Omero and Yraida each gave a speech, their sense of reward was evident to everyone in the audience. When the ceremony ended, the beers came out and the salsa music came on. We spent the rest of the night dancing at the posada—or in my case, attempting to dance.

Posada owners Omero and Yraida

The posada is the eighth one to open in the region, with several others slated to open in the near future. The communities here have always been connected by ancient trails but now, with a network of mucuposadas in the making, tourists will have the necessary accommodations to tour the area. They can go from one area to another by hiking, mountain biking, or horseback riding upon the trails. Communities actively participate in running rental services, maintaining the trails, and opening restaurants and posadas. In the process, they are supported by microcredit loans that are financed by the European Union and distributed by Andes Tropicales. Within four years, the loans will be repaid and the communities should be able to continue their projects independently. PAT has already carried out successful projects in other parts of Venezuela and, today, these communities are all self-sufficient.

Going on one of the trips, exploring the trails, and spending the night in a mucuposada is a unique opportunity to learn about traditional Venezuelan culture and support tourism that will directly benefit local communities.

Carolyn Chuong graduated from Brown University in 2010 and is currently teaching in Mérida, Venezuela on a Fulbright grant. To read more about her experiences, check out her blog.