UTPMP is best known locally for its work building houses- they organize ‘massive builds,’ where up to 3,000 volunteers work in groups of ten to build a temporary shelter for a family. While my experience in this area has been unquestionably great, most of my time is spent working with the villa of Monte Rosa in the area of microcredits.

The microcredit lending program is barely a year old, and today we held the first annual Microcredit Lending Conference for loan recipients from all the different neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. The loan recipients worked in groups to discuss various hardships and how they had overcome obstacles, listened to stories of inspiration from keynote speakers, and were able to feel part of a larger community throughout the city. Participants in the program often feel abandoned by the government, and the sense of unity and solidarity brought by UTPMP’s programs helps motivate them to continue fighting to improve the neighborhoods in which they live.

Of course, the conference was attended by families (though mostly women), and many children. The asado (Argentine barbecue) and bouncy castle were perhaps as important as the speeches, allowing all the conference participants to feel at home and interact with each other and UTPMP volunteers.

Overall, the conference was deemed a success by everyone. Spirits were rejuvenated while maintaining a positive and casual environment, encouraging all the participants to keep at it and support each other in their growth. Personally, I was touched, and ended the day with the hope that high spirits translate into effective action.

For more on Un Techo de Mi Pais, check out their website or “Non-Profit Spotlight: Un Techo Para Mi Pais, Argentina” by former La Vida Idealist contributor Becca Mondshein. Luba Guzei just ended her work as an English teacher with Langrow in Lima, Peru and is searching out new opportunities in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Promotional Poster for the 7th Annual Mathapi - designed by Henry Ticona

The community of sikuris in Buenos Aires is, to say the very least, unique. We are our own little world. Though the community has surely always existed, many consider 1992 (the 500 year anniversary of Columbus) a marking point in its history. Over the past two decades it has been growing steadily and in 2005 a small group of sikuris from different bands in the city organized the first Mathapi Apthapi Tinku.

The essence of the Mathapi is reflected in its name. Mathapi and tinku mean ‘gathering’ in Aymara and Quechua respectively and apthapi refers to a tradition in which communities come together to share. The Mathapi Apthapi Tinku embodies these values.  It is the largest gathering of sikuris in Buenos Aires, this year with more than 500 people in attendance, and it is truly a communal effort. So, after playing in my first Mathapi in 2010, I was intrigued by the organization of the event and decided to attend the bi-monthly organizational meetings and to perhaps lend a hand in 2011.

The process of putting together the Mathapi is without doubt one of the most impressive efforts I have ever taken part in. I had put together small events in college but always within and with the help of the university structure. This was a horse of a different color. With no external funding or official platform, the Mathapi is the definition of grass roots organizing. It is completely funded by a raffle and donations of time, goods and labor on the part of participants. Bands even provided communal meals for all sikuris who had travelled long distances (as far as from Chile and Peru!)

In the end, more than 30 bands participated in the two day event, playing musical styles from all regions of the Andes, as varied as  Lakas from Chile, Suri Sikuri from Bolivia, Sikrui Mayor from Peru, and Huaynos Jujeños from the North of Argentina. You can experience a taste of the Mathapi through the hundreds of videos on youtube!

I highly recommend the following (as I appear in all three videos!):

My band IMPA playing Huaynos jujeños: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gmma8_EV3oM

The ever energetic Lakas del Oriente playing Cumbias from Chile:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99pX5thoxtU

And the poderosos Aymaras Intercontinentales de Huancane Base Argetina with whom I had the pleasure to dance the gorgeous huaynos lentos of Peru: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wW-caFsqTmI

Lauren Deal is a former Fulbright Scholar and Program Assistant at Sustainable Horizon. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Comadres Impeñas rehearsing pre-peña

In learning to play the siku one learns a lot about the Andean cosmovision. It carries a lot of meanings and reflects on a way of life. At the heart of it all is the idea of equilibrium: two parts that fulfill their unique purposes to create one whole. You’ve got the two halves of the siku, the Ira and the Arka. The Ira calls and the Arka responds in order to construct a single melody.  You’ve got the Tata Inti, father sun, who’s light and heat give life to the Pachamama, mother earth in which that life flourishes. You’ve got the man who plays and the woman who dances.

….Wait. What?

The issue of the female sikuri is controversial topic. I learned early on in my education and induction into the world of sikuris that, traditionally, women do not play siku. In Andean communities, playing is a role reserved for men that is complimented by the role reserved for women – dancing. This division is so important that it is buoyed by the belief that playing the siku will leave a woman infertile. One explanation is that the contractions of the abdominal muscles used to play will somehow affect the woman’s reproductive system. On the other hand, some simply think it is in bad taste or that it is unattractive to see a woman “all hunched over and blowing (soplar) like a man”. Either way, the tradition stands that women shouldn’t play.

It is often, as a result, surprising just how many beautiful, female sikuris are active in Buenos Aires. In fact, it is one of the first things mentioned by the Peruvian sikuris who accepted me during the Fiesta de la Candelaria in Puno, Peru this summer (story to come).  In reality, it remains a controversial topic. On the one hand, here in the city, bands that follow this tradition are labeled as conservative. Meanwhile, women are increasingly taking on more challenging musical and leadership roles in many of the cities bands.

Warmi Sikuris gather to support the Pueblo Qom on International Women's Day (photo by Inalmama Centro Indígena)

Here in Buenos Aires the comadres, warmi sikuris, are carving out their own space, redefining their identities as women and participants of this millennial musical tradition. 2011 has in many ways been the year of the warmi sikuri (warmi means woman in Aymara and Quechua). In March, in celebration of International Women’s Day women from many of the city’s bands gathered together to play in support of the Pueblo Qom http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6T9KrjFj1G0 This year has also witnessed the birth of the city’s first all-female band the Utuyajayu Warmi Sikuris. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFqHXi2g6qY (Video from the Peña Aymara April 2011 – courtesy of Pablo Mardones.)

……And if anyone is still worried about the question of infertility, the women of the Banda de Sikuris de IMPA  have welcomed three new Impitas to the family in the past year and we’ve got 3 more on the way!

For more information on women and sikuris check out the great work Juliana Lumaldo has done at http://mujersikuri.blogspot.com/

Jallalla las Warmis!!!

Lauren Deal is a former Fulbright Scholar and Program Assistant at Sustainable Horizon. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Estudiantes Chilenos Exilados por la Educación August 25th. Photo by Javiera A. Fuentes

“Y como, y como, y como es la wea? Aca estudiamos gratias en Chile hay que pagar!” ~ Chant of Chilean students exiled by education in Argentina

Surely by now most have heard about the massive student protests going on in Chile demanding free, public and secular education for all students in Chile. La Vida Idealist’s own Paul Kearney recently wrote about the protests in Santiago. Since his article, Chile has seen two days of national strikes, huge marches and manifestations throughout the nation, the death of a 16 year-old student by the hands of Chilean a police officer, and general public outrage.

The raising of voices and public out-cry for change is not, however, limited to the Chilean side of the Andes. Chilean students in Argentina, who consider themselves to be exiled by the educational system in Chile, refuse to be silent on the issue. They too are taking their drums, their banners, and their pots and pans to the streets of Buenos Aires. With gas masks and clown noses on their faces they chant “Se va caer, se va caer la educacion de Pinochet!,” a pointed accusation that the current government and its educational policies fall in line with those of Chilean dictator Augosto Pinochet.

Though the issue is incredibly complex and the situation more than a little “heavy,” I honestly find the ferocity with which Chilean students are fighting for their right to education inspiring. The argument is simple: the right to education comes before the rights of big business. Or, at least it should. And yet, students find themselves without options. In order to study they have to leave the country or incur a massive debt. It’s not unlike the situation in the US, something my immense student debt speaks to in volumes. The difference is, Chileans have decided they’ve had enough.

Playing tarkeadas from Sorcoroma, Chile in Aug. 25 March. Photo by Javiera A. Fuentes

So, for me it was an easy decision to march with the Lakas del Oriente, the only chilean style band of sikuris in Argentina, most of the members of which are students who came to Buenos Aires to study. On the 25th of August we were joined in solidarity by members of different bands through out the city as we lead the march playing tarka, a wooden, andean flute traditional used during carnaval.

Marcha chilenos en Buenos Aires Apoyo al movimiento estudiantil from Javiera A. Bontá on Vimeo.

Change is coming in Chile. This Saturday president Pinera will meet with student leadership to begin talks. I guess my question is; have we had enough?

Artists from the Frente de Artistas del Borda Criticize Buenos Aires' Governor, Mauricio Macri, in Reinsertón (Photo by Frente de Artistas del Borda)

One of the best things about rehearsing in IMPA is that there are always interesting things going on in other parts of the factory. Be it circus training on the third floor, dance classes in the machine room, or chess in the lobby, my friends often make fun of me for getting caught up in whatever activity is going on. “Lauren, que barrilete que sos!” And they’re right, I tend to go where the wind takes me. So, a few weeks ago when Jaime, an out-patient from the psychiatric hospital El Hospital Borda who has been rehearsing with us, invited us to see his play, I was more than on board.

IMPA’s recently renovated black box theater, inaugurated the Teatro Nora Cortiñas in honor of Nora Cortiñas, one of the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo, and known affectionally as the “Teatrito,” hosts 2-3 shows per weekend and is becoming an increasingly important space for alternative and activist theater in Buenos Aires.  Most recently they have been featuring a show called “Reinsertón” produced and performed by the Frente de Artistas del Borda’s theater troupe “La tenés afuera (You have it outside)”

The show, interpreted by the current and former patients of the Borda in collaboration with actors and other non-patients who together form La tenés afuera, deals with the process of reinserción (reinsertion), defined as ” returning to integrate one’s self in society after having been marginalized”, and begs the question: What good does institutionalization really do? How do we go back?

Scene from Reinsertón (Photo Courtesy of Frente de Artistas del Borda)

The audience, myself included, exploded with laughter as the only character that seemed to have a name, a young woman referred to only by her last name, Desesperetti (a play on the the word desperate), struggled her way through the bureaucratic hoops and contradictions of Argentine society. Unable to pay her rent, which, as a result of inflation, was raised overnight, Desesperetti is sent from one office to another looking for some kind of help. In the end, she finds herself on the street sleeping under an Argentine flag with her land lady, who through her own series of unfortunate events finds herself homeless as well. The play, written by the cast, throws out harsh criticisms against the city government and Governor Mauricio Macri as well as the national government in such a way that is both hysterical and extremely insightful. Most importantly, however, it provides the patients of the Borda with a powerful outlet through which to make their voices heard.

The Frente de Artistas del Borda came into existence in 1984 with the objective of using art and artistic expression as a way of criticizing and transforming society and empowering the voices of in- and out- patients of one of the city’s largest psychiatric hospitals, the Hospital Interdisciplinario Psicoasistencial José Tiburcio Borda or as it’s known El Borda. For the past 25 years they have been fighting for desmanicomialización, a word that is hard to define in english as it is as inherently political. The concept of desmanicomialización is that of both deinstitutionalizing but also more importantly de-stigmatizing mental disease.

La tenés afuera is a theater group based out of the Borda Hospital which confronts the issue of desmanicomialización throughout improvisation and collective construction concerning  issues relevant to the participants both inside and outside the hospital.

Despite outcries by hospital staff, patients and general public, the Borda Hospital has been without heat or hot water for nearly 4 months. This has brought about severe criticism of Macri, the current state of Argentina’s public health system, and the marginalization of mental disease.

Lauren Deal is currently a Fulbright Scholar and Program Assistant at Sustainable Horizon. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Yes, you might as well picture me as a brunette Madonna crooning from a balcony “Don’t cry for me Argentinaaaa, the truth is I never left yoooooou.” Because it’s true, I didn’t leave. I am still here. As much as I complain about Buenos Aires being a massive city, the booby trapped sidewalks littered with dog poo land mines and squishing next to strangers on the subway, I just can’t seem to leave.

I have come a long way since my first day of volunteering where I experienced the all too familiar “what am I doing with my life?” crisis.  While it may have been a rocky start, in the end I was able to reach my ultimate goal of having an amazing volunteer experience. I feel like when I’m 60 years old (as appalling as that is for me to imagine) I will cherish my memories of walking along the dirt roads into the barrios, meeting the families with micro-credit  and leaving their homes with a profound respect for the day challenges they face in their lives.

Obviously everything glitters gold after the fact. There were ups and downs as well as times of occasional boredom. But che, that’s life. It was an absolute pleasure to work with people who are incredibly passionate about their work and to volunteer alongside individuals from across the globe. I was fortunate enough to learn a great deal about the precarious housing situation in Argentina and just how politically and socially complex of an issue this is to solve.

I have to admit that my experience challenged my idealistic philosophies about volunteering abroad. I really want to work for the greater good but sometimes I gotta get paid. One thing I learned, I’m not the only one who is facing this dilemma. For many young people looking to get involved in NGOs or non-profit work, there is this internal debate about how to be financially independent while supporting social causes. Unfortunately, I am nowhere near having the gilded answer. But perhaps for me the best path may end up being a mix of private enterprises and NGOs. Only time will tell.

For the time being, I will be staying put in my new home in the Southern Hemisphere, impatiently awaiting the arrival of spring and opportunities to travel. And rest assured, I will keep writing about my adventures in my blog along the way.

Megan Kaseburg just finished up a volunteer stint as International Volunteer Coordinator with Habitat for Humanity Argentina. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Wiphalas are raised high as the march of the Otro Bicentenario arrives at the Argentine National Congress on May 24, 2011

On the 24^th of May 2010 the 16 lane avenue 9 de Julio was teeming with boisterous manifestations of national pride as hundreds of thousands of Argentines celebrated the Bicentennial of the May Revolutions. Meanwhile, 6 city blocks up the Avenida de Mayo, on the far side of the Plaza del Congreso, the Argentine flag was replaced by the vibrant rainbow colors of the wiphala and a crowd of hundreds rather than thousands were gathered in a counter celebration: The Other Bicentennial. I found myself in the middle of this plaza surrounded by protest banners and artisans’ stalls asking myself: ‘Where am I and how did I get here?”

I was about a month into a folk singing workshop at the University of Buenos Aires school of Philosophy and Letters when my friend and teacher Santiago invited me to sing on the stage of the Other Bicenntenial. Having a curious, anthropological mind, I enthusiastically agreed and took in the sights and sounds of the event with fascination. Banners spoke of the 33,000 people that had been disappeared under the dictatorship, an indigenous woman chained herself up in heavy cast-iron chains as she shouted into her megaphone about the situation of the Wichi peoples in the northern region of Chaco, and the general tone of the event spoke to why Argentina’s two hundred year history might not be something worth celebrating just yet.

Singing Coplas on the Stage of the Other Bicentennial

After I sang, I was informed that there was to be a march and I decided to stay. It was then that I was introduced to the sikus, the Andean panflute, and heard, for the first time, “Cinco Siglos,” the protest anthem of the ubran sikuri in Buenos Aires. In that moment, as an outsider, I followed the march, fascinated by the jubilance of the protest, the sense of community, and above all the music. As the march came to a close, my friend and future bandmate Santiago, came to me and asked, “So, what did you think?”

All I could muster in response was an awed-stare and a “Wow!” Since I had returned to Buenos Aires, where I had first lived as a study abroad student in 2007, a few short months before, as a Fulbright Fellow intending to study the relationship between opera and Argentine national identity, I had never experienced anything like the vibrant expression of resistance and solidarity in which I had just participated.

Sikuris playing sikus in the march

The march ended and the participants embraced, laughed and conversed with one another, clearly demonstrating a much deeper connection than this one moment, connection greater than this one cause. In the excitement of the moment I couldn’t find the words in English or Spanish to express my fascination to Santiago, who, seemingly disappointed, turned and said to me, “I just wish more members of my band had come.” Those words would alter the course of my time here in Argentina.

A week later I found my self standing at the doorstep of a massive industrial factory at the heart of Almagro, a neighborhood at the geographic center of the city of Buenos Aires, waiting for Santiago to arrive and take me to my first rehearsal with the Banda de Sikuris de IMPA. The Fabrica IMPA (Industrias Metelurgicas y Plasticas Argentinas) is one of the approximately 200 factories and companies whose workers, faced with the impending loss of their jobs at the hands of intentional corporate mismanagement and bankruptcy during the crisis of 1999-2001, took over their respective facilities and began operating as workers cooperatives. The movement, known as the Recuperated Factories movement, maintains that the right to work is paramount above the corporate right to profit and property. As a method of preventing police eviction, many factories, IMPA among the first, opened cultural centers offering popular education workshops that kept the factory occupied during non-working hours. It was there, in 2000, the Band of Sikuris de IMPA was founded and there that they continue to rehearse today.

Rehearsing in the patio in IMPA

When Santi arrived he accompanied me to the second floor patio of the massive factory where I was introduced to the guias (guides), handed an instrument and began what would become the most interesting journey of my life. A journey that has taken me from the most rural parts of northern Argentina, to the bustling Santiago de Chile. One that allowed me to participate in the Fiesta de la Candelaria, one of Peru’s largest celebrations of Folklore. And, most importantly, one that has shed an entirely new light on the idea of Buenos Aires as the “Paris of Latin America”.  As a part of La Vida Idealist, I will be sharing some of these experiences with you all, talking about the many sites and, above all, sounds that are seldom experienced by the average tourist or English speaking ex-pat, and hopefully giving some attention to the social causes in which I have been involved for the past year and a half.

Lauren Deal is currently a Fulbright Scholar and Program Assistant at Sustainable Horizon. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

What this means is that families do not need to be religious to receive the NGO’s services nor do volunteers have to be religious to work for the organization.  I was informed in my volunteer interview that volunteers should support the NGO’s values and every week the national office had a team meeting to discuss a passage from the Bible and how to best put our ‘faith in action’. Since I can count the times I have been to church on one hand, this was an unfamiliar experience. I have never read the Bible and it’s not exactly on my reading list. But over time, I found these discussions refreshing as they generally focused on topics such as being humble, listening to others, peace and serving the poor. For me, it was motivating to discuss my personal philosophies regarding fighting poverty with my coworkers. Whether you call it charity, Tzedakah, Zakah or Dana, helping the less fortunate is part of all the world’s major religions. And while I may not agree with all of their principles, I can certainly agree with this one.

Still it was a leap of faith (figuratively) to sign up to volunteer with a faith based NGO. Why? I think for many of us without religious affiliation, there is a stereotype that faith based organizations inherently seeks to evangelize, and this is an especially sensitive topic when applied to international development work in Latin America. Perhaps this depends on the organization, but my experience volunteering has allowed me to make space in my world view to incorporate faith based volunteering.  It has been an absolute honor to work with people who are extremely passionate about what they do and who are committed to serving others. If someone has a religious motivation to do the work that they do, than that is ok with me, because lord knows they ain’t in it for the money. Multiply this sentiment by four when you consider a salary in Argentine pesos. Everyone has their own personal reasons for working in non-profits. Given that money isn’t the main motivating factor, there has to be something else. And through my volunteer work, I have gained a wider perspective and respect for those who work every day to put their faith in action.

Megan Kaseburg is currently the International Volunteer Coordinator with Habitat for Humanity Argentina. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

For the majority of people who come to South America from Europe or the USA, their trip is temporary, whether ten days, or ten months. They go in knowing they’re going to leave, and they spend their time as such- traveling, making friends, exploring town- all with a sense of needing to pack in as much experience as they can into a short amount of time. When I first came here, and even now when I backpack from place to place, I’m definitely in exactly such a mindset.

Walking a bridge at Iguazu

But at the moment, my stay here is starting to look pretty indefinite. I’m going back home to visit for a month, but then the plan is to come back, start a job that could last a couple of years, and for a while at least, settle down. That’s how I’ve lived the last few months here in Buenos Aires / La Plata (a city about an hour away), and it’s a completely different experience.

I don’t think about taking a 18-hour bus ride to see Iguazu Falls for one day and going straight back, like I did my first week here. I spent today (the day before my trip back home) fishing, drinking mate, and playing bingo at a local casino, and I plan to spend tomorrow making vareniki, a traditional Russian food; the stuff of daily life.

There’s definitely a difference between seeing all the sights in a country, and experiencing life there like a local. I’m looking forward to doing a lot of the latter when I come back.

Luba Guzei just ended her work as an English teacher with Langrow in Lima, Peru and is searching out new opportunities in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

At the beginning of the year I found myself, as many gringos do, in Buenos Aires looking for volunteer opportunities. I figured that it wouldn’t be too hard to discover something in city full of international NGOs. Right? Wrong. While there were plenty of openings, I was surprised to learn that the majority of the organizations required a fee. That’s right, as in I would have to pay, in some cases hundreds of dollars, in order to donate my time. First thought that came to my mind: SCAM. But after spending the last four months recruiting, interviewing and managing volunteers from all over the world, I now have a greater understanding of why some organizations need to charge a fee.

Epiphany moment: It takes a lot of time and effort to organize volunteers!

Consider this in the economic context of international NGOs and that fact that they operate on a shoestring. A very short shoestring made of straw. Each peso spent on administrative costs is closely audited and has to be justified. International supporters want to donate to heartwarming programs and it can be a hard sell to convince donors to pay for the administrative costs necessary to facilitate international volunteers. For this reason, NGOs have started to outsource to volunteer placement agencies that have the expertise to recruit and manage international volunteers, effectively transferring the costs to the volunteer.

So does this mean you should expect to pay to volunteer? Not quite. The answer will ultimately come down to your individual circumstances as well as time and money. Do you have time to travel to a new place and arrange a volunteer placement on your own? Do you speak the local language? How long would you like to volunteer for? Thinking about these kinds of questions will help lead you to the best option for you.

If you don’t want to pay to volunteer, then you should be prepared to do everything yourself, including organizing your housing, local transportation, cellphone, social experiences, etc. While this may be a welcome adventure for a seasoned traveller with an open itinerary, for individuals with fewer language skills and time, this can be a nightmare. If you fit into the latter category, then it may be worth it to pay for someone to help you arrange a less stressful, more rewarding volunteer experience. Generally organizations that charge a fee will help you with issues such as housing and provide volunteers with a support network in case (more likely, when) they run into problems.

In the end, I feel lucky to have found a free volunteer opportunity. This was due to a mixture of good language skills, ability to make a long-term commitment and a pinch of luck. However, there are pros and cons to both sides and my goal with this post is to extend the debate beyond company websites and help readers, do-gooders and travelers alike to decide whether or not to pay to volunteer abroad in Latin America.

Megan Kaseburg is currently the International Volunteer Coordinator withHabitat for Humanity Argentina. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.