Do: A Kiva Fellowship. It'll change your life

Now, we’re no experts in living or working abroad (though we sure do like it), but we have some nuggets of wisdom to offer up for those of you transitioning into a life abroad or beginning your next Kiva Fellowship. Stick by these tips, and you can’t go wrong. (And for more hints and tips, check out the original 33 Tips from Kiva Fellows post from November 2009 or the full 60 tips on the Kiva Fellows Blog!)

Best Way to a Kiva Fellow’s Heart is through…

1. People love to share food in El Salvador. If you’re having lunch with someone or with co-workers, offer up some of what you have for them to try. (Andrea Ramirez, KF16 Costa Rica & El Salvador)

2. Make sure you try the different casados (rice and black beans paired with some sort of salad, and meat). It’s delicious, affordable, and the closest thing to home-made. (Andrea Ramirez, KF16 Costa Rica & El Salvador)

They may not look good. They may not taste that good, either. But do it: eat the fried cow intestines.

3. Try everything. Ok, yes, you could get sick, but worse, you could live the rest of your life without knowing what guinea pig, cow tongue, fermented maize, cow heart, llama, friend random thing with more random things in it, magical juice in a bag, etc., etc., tastes like. If these things don’t seem appealing, remember: even worse, you could miss out on a big chance to share in a local cultural experience that will stay stayed with you forever. (Mariela Cedeno, KF16 Bolivia)

4. Befriending office mates is easy as pie, especially if you bake one. Any baked treat will do the trick: cookies, cupcakes, 7-layer bars – anything tasty and homemade will suffice. Walk around and offer your treats during the afternoon coffee break. (Sandra Pina, KF16, Honduras)

5. Don’t eat cheap food! Factor in the exchange rate when choosing food…in reality food might be $.20 cheaper, but not worth it! (Eric Rindal, KF15 Sierra Leaone, KF16 Bolivia)

Mind your manners:

6. Ladies, doesn’t matter if you’re wearing sweatpants, a miniskirt, or a potato sack. Steel yourself for catcalls- and remember, there’s no sense in lashing out at the singular gentlemen on the street. Number 1, it’s dangerous, and number 2, even the most articulate string of retaliatory words at this one guy from you cannot spark a shift in the consciousness surrounding gender roles. It’s not worth raising your blood pressure. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16 Peru)

7. Unless you enjoy highly passionate debates on Christianity during every remaining day of your fellowship, don’t ever – EVER – admit to your Kiva Coordinator to being anything else but an absolutely devout Christian. If you are Jewish, Muslim, Hindu: just forget your God for four months. If you are an atheist: just remember yours! (Emmanuel von Arx, KF16 Ecuador)

8. If the previous recommendation comes too late for you and you have already committed the capital error of confessing any less than full-blown belief in the word of the Bible, you need to consider immediate and urgent conversion to Christianity. This should ideally take place in a public forum, such as during the Monday morning bible session at your MFI, in the presence of all the employees.(Emmanuel von Arx, KF16 Ecuador)

9. Prepare yourself for all kinds of questions: if you went to university, how much your flight cost, if you have a boyfriend (and if you want one), and so on. Ecuadorians are curious and they’re not afraid to show it. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16 Peru)

10. Follow through on promises (or obligations)– go to dinner with coworker’s families, take a day trip with coworkers or friends, etc. And participate! Don’t be shy (or obnoxious) and get involved with after work sports or after work drinks. This is your new community. (Eric Rindal, KF15 Sierra Leone, KF16 Bolivia)

How do you say…

11. Make sure to learn the local language- and I mean local. Simpatico and ridiculo might mean nice, and ridiculous, in Ecuador, but in Ica, Perú you just called somebody sexy and asinine. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

12. No amount of “city” Spanish will prepare you for the linguistic richness and diversity of Spanish spoken in rural Costa Rica. That said, bring a notebook for ALL field visits, and let the loan officers be your best professors and guides. Even Costa Rican urbanites find themselves lost among the colloquialisms of Tico country Spanish. (Julie Kerr, KF16 Costa Rica)

13. Learning common words and phrases in an indigenous language is the quickest way to break the ice. Guaraní is Paraguay’s other official language and is spoken by the majority of the population. Purete means cool, haso means not cool, kaigue is lazy, nde ha’e kuña guapa means “You are a hard working woman!,” chevare’a means “I am hungry,” and amokose means “I want a drink!” (Alba Castillo, KF15 Paraguay)

14. When a farmer says he brings his harvest to market using his “salchichón” (commonly known as “sausage”), blush not my friends, he means “horse”. (Julie Kerr, KF16 Costa Rica)

15. If you lose the thread of a conversation don’t just say ‘sí‘ or intermittently laugh. Get them to repeat things and when that get boring pick out a word or phrase that you Do know and make a comment or nonsequitor. They might be saying “fijate, las olas son bravas en la playa” and your response might be an unrelated, “¿Te gusta la playa?” This gets the conversation back on your own terms. Think about how often you respond like this in English! (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

16. Because they will ask: Kiva means “unity” or “agreement” in Swahili. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

What to Bring

Do: bring a tuperwear container. Sporks can also come in handy, for that mid-morning mountain climb.

17. My three smartest investments for my fellowships? A SteriPen, a tuperwear container, and a pocket knife with a corkscrew. (Also, if you like to bake, bring down baking soda- you can’t get it anywhere in Ecuador or Perú). (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16 Peru)

18. Always carry a small, sturdy umbrella. It will get you through unexpected showers; as well as hot, sunny days. (Alba Castillo, KF16 Paraguay)

19. Rain is as plentiful is the air we breathe. Bring an umbrella if you prefer to shower before getting dressed. (Julie Kerr, KF16 Costa Rica)

20. Bug spray, bug spray and MORE bug spray!! For those of you who like more natural alternatives, anything with menthol or eucalyptus helps repel the mightiest of mammoth mosquitoes, sand flies, ticks and chiggers. Slather it on THICK! (Julie Kerr, KF16 Costa Rica)

21. Bring clothes or shoes that need to be fixed, mended, or altered. It is cheap and the work is top quality. The sasterías and zapateros are EVERYWHERE. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

There’s no place like home (in a new country!)

22. If you can, try to find accommodation near the central market building: there’s nothing like eating shrimp ceviche with avocado at 7 o’clock in the morning. Besides, this may be your only chance for the entire day to get your hands on food that’s neither triple-fried nor made out of pure pork fat. (Emmanuel von Arx, KF16 Ecuador)

23. If it’s possible, go with a homestay! Local food, local language, and a solid support group in-country are just a few of the obvious perks of living with a family. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador and KF16 Peru)

Getting from point A to B

If you're feeling the need for speed, do: hop on your loan officer's motorcycle.

24. When moving around by taxi in Cuzco, do everything possible to seem local to get cheaper prices (there are lots of local gringos, so you can pull it off). How to go about it?

• Say hi to your taxista like this “Buenas, maestro.” Saying hola is touristy, saying chofer is touristy, and asking anything about anything is touristy. You don’t care. You are local.
• Tell him where you are going by saying “I will get off at such and such location”. If you are going to a restaurant, know its name, what street it is on, the nearest cross street, and a reference point nearby BEFORE you get in. Otherwise you won’t be able to pull off the “trabajo aquí.”(Miss any of those four, you are officially a tourist.) (Rob Gradoville, KF16 Peru)

25. If you’re taking the bus and you don’t know where you need to get off, just ask the bus diver. Costa Rica has the nicest bus drivers around! (Andrea Ramirez, KF16 Costa Rica & El Salvador)

26. For safety’s sake, always make a show of noting your taxi’s license plate number in Quito, Ecuador or Ica, Peru- I’ve actually started pantomiming phone calls in Spanish to friends, relaying the plate number and how soon I’ll be arriving to meet them. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador and KF16 Peru)

Get to work!

27. If you have any freedom to do borrower visits, have no shame in visiting anyone who owns a panatería, heladería, or pisco vineyard. Peruvian hospitality and pride in their business translate to homemade treats for you. Microtenterprise never tasted so good. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

28. Email coworkers when you leave! – Even if they weren’t helpful with that one thing you were working on…they still care and want to hear from you when you’re gone. (Eric Rindal, KF15 Sierra Leone, KF16 Bolivia)

29. Make people laugh, even when it’s awkward. Visiting clients who are on a spectrum from extreme introvert, to slightly less extreme introvert, can be daunting, but like everything else in life, there is nothing better than a laugh. You’d be amazed how many times my laughing at people and saying “por favor, sonria porque se me va a romper la camera si sigue asi,” actually made them smile. Don’t rush, don’t pull out your pen and BV template, and don’t start dangerously pointing your camera right way. Chill out, smile, shake hands, take in the scenery, interact! (Mariela Cedeno, KF16 Bolivia)

30. Make sure to hang out with MFI staff outside of work. Don’t worry so much about about keeping it strictly ‘professional.’ I built trust, learned office hierarchy, gossip, and got a lot of technical questions answered after a few beers with loan officers. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

31. Fake it ’til you make it. You will be considered an expert in all things Kiva, even if you’re not. Embrace the challenge. You will have multiple resources at your disposal: use them. Learn along the way and don’t be afraid to tell your field partner, “Can I get back to you on that? I want to confirm with Kiva.” (Sandra Pina, KF16, Honduras)

32. If it should take a day or two, it’ll take three or four. If it’s your Borrower Verification, it’ll take a month. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

33. Figure out how your MFI communicates. They are probably using chat or skype. Get your coworkers chat/skype info early on. sometimes you can formulate better questions, get better responses and be less annoying chatting rather than visiting their office for every little thing. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

Safety

34. Always ask before you snap a photo of someone (especially if they’re not a borrower, especially if you’re in Guatemala). Not only can it be extremely rude, but tourists’ cameras, and persons, have been roughed up for this transgression in the past. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

35. Never carry your credit card unless you are making a withdrawal. I prefer to carry large sums of money in my shoe rather than bringing my card out of hiding. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

36. Make and carry a photocopy of your passport. Carrying it around for real is a real bad idea, and having no record makes it hard to check into hostels/hotels. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

37. I’ve also got a list of my credit card numbers (scrambled) and call-in information should my wallet get stolen. I also keep an emergency cash supply. Call me paranoid, call me what you will, but this list and back-up cash have come in handy three times in the past year. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

Do: try to dance like the locals. Don't: fool yourself into thinking you're really, really good at it.

Living and Looking Local:

37. Never take the first price- haggling is expected. On the other side of the coin, though, don’t haggle some old woman trying to sell you a scarf in the Sunday market into oblivion- that extra dollar probably means an awful lot more than her than it does to you. Lay aside your hubris and indignation from time to time and accept the gringo tax. (Kate Bennett, KF15 Ecuador & KF16)

38. Be a guest (and a friend) – allow people in your host country to take you around…you don’t always have to pretend like you’re not a tourist…let’s be real, this is not your native country (if it is, still go on some trips!). (Eric Rindal, KF15 Sierra Leone, KF16 Bolivia)

39. Get off the internet! Your friends at home really don’t need to hear from you every day (although your mother/father probably does). It’s way cooler to say, “I was out of internet range…” (Eric Rindal, KF15 Sierra Leone, KF16 Bolivia)

40. Outside of San Salvador the people are pretty conservative. Men won’t shake a woman’s hand unless she extends her hand first. (Andrea Ramirez, KF16 Costa Rica & El Salvador)

41. In Paraguay, you greet and say goodbye to friends with not one, but two kisses – one on each cheek. (Alba Castillo, KF16 Paraguay)

42. If you want to look like a local, wear jeans. Even if it’s 100 degrees outside. Tourists are associated with shorts. (Andrea Ramirez, KF16 Costa Rica & El Salvador)

43. When in Rome…always pour some out for Pachamama. If you find yourself sitting around a big bucket of Chicha with nothing but a full gourd in hand, don’t be stingy, pour some out for Mother Earth, she’s thirsty too. (Mariela Cedeno, KF16 Bolivia)

44. Walk, walk everywhere, all the time. Yes you need to be at the office at 8 a.m. and you get up at 7:40, but maybe during your two hour lunch break and on weekends you can make sure to take the time to pace yourself. Remember to absorb everything around you: the sounds, the streets, the people, the street vendors, the conversations, the protests, the smells. For some reason, those were also my most peaceful times. (Mariela Cedeno, KF16 Bolivia)

45. Getting haircuts is cheap and always a great experience. Getting a straight razor shave sounds bad ass but is just bad and hurts a lot. (Jim Burke, KF16 Nicaragua)

For more hints and tips, check out the original 33 Tips from Kiva Fellows post from November 2009! To learn more about the Kiva Fellowship experience, check out “Why I Volunteer Abroad” by Eric Rindal, “Migration, Microloans, and the Journey of a Kiva Fellow” by Kate Bennett, or the official Kiva Fellows Blog.

Gregoria

Dreams to…Own sewing machines to make and sell clothing

Gregoria is a mother of seven, four of which live at home, and she sells shoes in the local markets around Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I visited her in a half-constructed small home in the outskirts of town; her sons built the home using their mom’s profits. Her three sons adore their mother and are all a part of the business decisions and the loan process. With a huge smile Gregoria said her dream was to purchase sewing machines and make clothing. This will allow her to employ her sons with a steady job. Clearly the bond of the family would be a driving force in her business.

Irene

Dreams to…Purchase a car to help her traveling business

Irene sells cleaning towels, cleaning products, and small household items out of a small cardboard box. Her business is, well, a traveling business. She walks twelve hours per day along the streets between towns selling these small items. I met Irene in the mid-morning after she had been walking for a few hours; she was already tired. “I am getting old,” she said, and she isn’t able to walk as far or as long as she used to do. With great strength she does not complain about walking, but her dream is to purchase a car so she does not need to walk everywhere and wear herself out to make a living.

Teodocio

Dreams to…Buy a fabric cutting machine to increase efficiency

Teodocio lives with his wife and two daughters in El Alto, Bolivia. He works at home three days a week making large brimmed hats for field workers and he sells the hats in the marketplace the rest of the week. He previously had one sewing machine to complete his work, but then purchased a second sewing machine with his loan. Since taking out his loan Teodocio has been able to employ both his daughters to sew the hats. Teodocio’s dream is to buy a fabric cutter to create custom designs and produce the fabric cuts at the pace and moment he needs them.

Julia

Dreams to… 1) Purchase a larger bus, and 2) Travel to Europe

Julia is the owner of a bus for public transportation in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I expected her to be a bus driver, but she hires a driver and simply is responsible for all the maintenance. She is a woman of great business savvy, and is also is an active distributor of Herbalife products. As a responsible borrower and businesswoman, she is always seeking to grow her business and uses microloans as a means to expand and actualize her goals. After using a loan to purchase the bus, her new dream is to purchase a bus big enough to fit 40 or 50 people. I asked if she had other goals; her eyes became distant and she laughed as if it was utterly ridiculous, but Julia’s other dream is to make enough money to travel to Europe. She would “love to see Europe.”

Valentine

Dreams to…Plant more fields and increase his herd of cows

Valentine is a farmer and raises cattle in the quiet warm agriculture area outside of Santa Cruz, Bolivia. He has 30 cows and a few fields where he plants corn, yucca, and peanuts. Valentine lives in a house on the hillside with his wife and young son who loves to sing (he is about 6 years old and sang a few songs while strumming his guitar). I asked Vincent why he took out loans, “if I didn’t have a loan I couldn’t buy more seeds. If I do buy more seeds then I can plant and harvest more fields.” It’s that simple. Valentine’s dream is to buy more cows for his farm and more seeds to plant – both of which allow him to supply the local cooperative market.

Elvira

Dreams to…Construct her own house

(Elvira is the second from the left, in the back)

Elvira is member of the nine-woman-strong “New Hope” group working in a street market of Cochabamba, Bolivia. She sells noodles, rice, and beans in her market stall and is the dedicated leader of the solidarity group. With the few profits Elvira makes each month, her dream is to construct and complete a home. “That is all I want…to construct a home,” she said.

Martina

Dreams to…Pay for her two children to graduate from university

Martina lives in the rural town of Achacachi, Bolivia near the shores of Lake Titicaca. She owns four dairy cows and sells the milk to a local cooperative in her area. She has two sons in their early twenties who are attending university in La Paz. Her dream is to pay for her two sons to graduate from university. She has been using all her profits from milk sales to pay for their education. She purchased her fourth dairy cow with her loan, but it has since become pregnant and currently produces little milk. Despite slow milk production and sales, Martina is determined to pay for their schooling. Even while things are uncertain until the cow’s birth in January, she is frugal and knows she will see them both complete their education.

Gabriel

Dreams to…Own a reliable dump truck

Gabriel drives a dump truck for hire in La Paz, Bolivia. He used his Kiva loan to buy a new motor for his truck; his other motor up and died a few months ago. As an older man it is difficult to get steady work, so he relies solely on his skill of driving large trucks. He is the only worker in his family, and his financial situation is delicate, so if his motor goes out he has no income. Gabriel’s dream is to purchase a new, reliable dump truck to ensure his employment and steady income. He then would not need to worry if his “business” could break down at any moment.

Lilian

Dreams to…Travel to Europe and attend hairdressing workshops

Lilian owns a two-chair hair salon in Cochabamba, Bolivia. She is extremely kind, welcoming, and a great hairdresser. During my whole interview she had a huge smile and described how her loan allowed her to buy more hair products to sell to her customers. When asked about her dream, Lilian exhaled, rolled her lips inward, and closed her eyes, “I want to take hairdressing classes and workshops in Europe or the United States. I have heard of these classes and want to learn new styles and see Europe.” She knows it would be expensive, but she still has hope that one day her dream will come true.

Hugo

Dreams to…Purchase another skill saw and hire an employee

Hugo is a puzzle maker in El Alto, Bolivia. With his Kiva loan he purchased a skill saw to cut the intricate shapes of children’s puzzles. Previously he was cutting all the shapes by hand using a small tricky saw. Hugo’s dream is to purchase another skill saw and hire an employee (who would become his apprentice). He says there are plenty of people who want to work in his area and there is also high demand for his puzzles. Hugo loves puzzle making, and expanding his business is his ultimate goal.

Cesar

Dreams to…Re-open a restaurant with internet and a book store

Cesar owns two restaurants in La Paz, Bolivia, one is directly across from a local high school and the other is in a small neighborhood. With his wife, they have taken out a loan to expand and remodel the restaurants. “There are internet cafés, restaurants, and book stores,” he said, “but no one in his areas has combined all of them.” A true entrepreneur, Cesar’s dream is to remodel his restaurant, connect wi-fi, and offer bookstore items for the nearby high school students.

Eric

Dreams to…Start his own printing and copy shop

Eric studied at a local university in La Paz, Bolivia. He has been working at his father’s printing and copy shop making money to pay for his classes. However, he has had to take some time off from school to save up enough to continue his classes later. In the mean time he has decided to pursue owning his own print and copy shop. Learning from his father how to run a print and copy business, Eric’s dream is to use a loan and purchase his own copy machine and printers…thus moving out on his own and starting his own business.

Juana

Dreams to…Maintain steady sales and be equipped to do business

Juana owns a small storefront on a main street in La Paz, Bolivia. She has run the small store for years and taken out loans since 1995 to keep her business competitive and innovative. Always trying to differentiate herself, Juana has purchased phones for customers to use for local and international calling; no one in Juana’s neighborhood has these phones. When asked about her dream, Juana simply smiled and said, “I would like to equip my store and make it of the highest quality. I would like to continue on as I currently am…and, well, in the future make a little more in profits than I am now.”

Miguel

Dreams to…Start his own dairy

Miguel has taken out two loans so far. He lives in a rural farming community hours away from La Paz, Bolivia. His uncle owns a farm with dairy cows, and Miguel wanted to try his hand at owning a dairy. With his first loan he purchased a cow, and he did the same with his second loan. His dream is to be a dairy farmer and little by little he is reaching his dream.

Ben

Dreams to…Send his two young daughters to school through university level

Ben is a painter who specializes in the restoration of 17^th-19^th century colonial art works living in La Paz, Bolivia. With his loan he was able to purchase more works of art in antique shops and more supplies to continue his restoration business. Ben sells his renovated pieces to private collectors as well as in the markets of La Paz. He lives with his wife and two daughters in a beautiful little home with paintings (most are his own) from floor to ceiling. His dream is to make enough money to send his two young daughters to school through university level.

***

I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to share with you the dreams of some Kiva borrowers I met here in Bolivia. Dreams are a wonderful thing to share and are a part of people’s lives regardless of economic standing. It may be expected that people living in developing countries might only have dreams for cleaner water or better healthcare, however most have very concrete dreams for one more cow or traveling to Europe or owning a car. There is kind of a glass ceiling above people in developing countries in the perception that poorer people might only want potable water or medicine. This idea really limits their dreams and desires to a perception of what I (we) feel they are asking for. Their dreams are greater and go further than I could have imagined.

Eric currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

How common are Carlos and Diego’s stories for a homosexual man in Bolivia?

In the book Sociolegal Control of Homosexuality, Timothy and Richard Wright discuss the developing gay community in Bolivia and identify a few barriers to homosexuality’s acceptance. One such barrier is the rigidly structured male roles within the gente de ambiente (people of the environment), “characterized by a precarious strategy of heterosexual emulation constructed so as not to disturb the status quo.”

To this effect, homosexual men frequently emulate the heterosexual lifestyle and do not consider themselves gay. In order to maintain legitimacy in their family and work life, many gay men in Bolivia have families and children. According to the taxi drivers, bar tenders, and co-workers I have spoken with, these married and fathered gay men maintain a steady or un-steady boyfriend in addition to their traditional family.

Although certain aspects of the social environment have harmed the cause for acceptance of homosexuals in Bolivia, it’s a double-edged sword. For better or worse, rigidly defined gender roles have set in motion a manageable “cover up” for homosexual men. Maintaining the status quo as a “man” or “woman” in society is relatively easy, as expectations are established and thoroughly ingrained in society.

Gender roles are just one social factor that contributes to the perpetuation of disgrace in Bolivia. This can be seen in deviation from the norms of society. However, La Familia Galan, La Paz’s notoriously famous group of transvestites usually are present at local festivities or parades, are accepted as entertainers.

Additionally, the importance of the family (given that most homosexuals may live with their nuclear or extended families for their whole lives) hinders acceptance of the gay community, because most families are not prepared or accepting of their homosexual children, siblings, or cousins. Family ties are both a point of distress and dependence for the homosexual. Most likely the family unity restricts the freedom of the homosexual – with both men and women marrying in their late twenties, and potential partners living at home as well.

Even if the family is aware of their member’s sexual orientation, they may disapprove and ostracize, while keeping the son or daughter in the home (as with Carlos’s family’s “ban” on interaction with the outside world). Like a moral jail, the son or daughter must find other areas to carry out their relationships and remain restricted to the family’s rules and expectations.  It is clear, however, the benefit and closeness of the family can be a support system (if they accept the homosexual member) or a great source of distress.

Furthermore, the timid nature surrounding the topic of homosexuality can be detrimental to the progress of homosexual integration into society. Yet, even as a hindrance to public discourse, the lack of discussion within Bolivian society allows homosexuals to keep their secret safe without being prodded our questioned. With an opaque understanding of homosexuality, dialogue within society about homosexuality is one of the only ways to end falsities and disdain toward homosexuality.

There is much to be concluded and few actions to be taken in regards to staunch religious perspectives toward homosexuality. As opposed to changing family perceptions, increase the dialogue, or blurring the lines of gender roles; any religion seems unlikely to waiver in their beliefs. The society and homosexuals must reconcile their beliefs with this issue on a personal basis. And, in all honestly, that’s that.

*          *          *

There are always anomalies within societies. I found one in Bolivia. She is a 70-something-year-old woman who owns the only two “official” gay discotecas in La Paz. Why would a devout Catholic married mother of two own these bars? Because one son identifies as gay and the other is a transvestite. Their mother wanted to own and offer locations where people would never be discriminated against for their sexual orientation. I talked with her around midnight on a Saturday. She was dressed in a mauve knit sweater and a patterned floor length skirt, and might have been one of the sweetest, tender women I have met.

With great dignity she stands behind the bar until 6 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights, making sure her dance club is safe and the patrons are not afraid of the stigmas they face on the “outside.” She is offering the gay and lesbian community an escape from fear of discrimination and an open environment to be who they are. She’s empowering a small, marginalized community that may one day break the silence in Bolivian society. And who knows- maybe, while at tea with friends, she is changing their opinions of the gay community in Bolivia. This woman is changing lives, and not only those who attend her dance club.

This is the final post in Eric Rindal’s series on Living Gay in Bolivia. Check out the the first, second, or third posts to learn more about Diego, Carlos, and challenges facing the gay community in Bolivia. Eric currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

Diego’s secret was revealed in a flash during his late teens. His older sister found a photo of him simply embracing his boyfriend with a hug—it was both liberation from secrecy and illumination to a harsh reality. His mother, particularly, was shattered with the news and refused to accept the truth about her son. Nothing really changed but the knowledge of who their only son was. However it was as if Diego’s existence was wiped clean; his family suddenly could not understand who he was. The shock went from head to toe and the suffering each member endured arose from a disbelief and fear for the future implications.

Now, as a 20-year-old student living in a temperate and relaxed eastern city in Bolivia, he walks a thin line of inherently being part of the family, yet unequivocally outside the family. As soon as they “found out,” Diego says, things were unbearably difficult. “No one knew who [I] was anymore,” and they still do not. Diego’s family is “the pillar of who [he is],” yet he is growing up and growing apart from the ideals of his family. If you met Diego, you would see that he knows himself well. There was never a point when he questioned his sexuality; he has “known [he] was gay since [he] began knowing.”

At the age of 15 he fell in love with his first (last, and only) partner, whom he was with for three blissful but secretive years. The end of the relationship was riddled with infidelity, on the part of his partner, and the insincerity broke his heart. Diego simply wishes what was normal to him was normal to everyone else. He wishes he could live his life “in plentitude, to hold hands with a boyfriend, to marry, and establish a loving home and family.”

Diego’s first relationship brings to light the difficulty in finding a long-term partner among the surreptitious gay environment within Bolivia. It must be said that long-term sincere homosexual relationships certainly occur in Bolivia, but from my interviews and research I found them to be more of an ideal over a reality. Diego describes the gay community in his city as prevalent, yet from an outsider’s perspective it remains relatively unknown – partially due to the fact that it is difficult to detect homosexuals, as they must fit the status quo, purporting to be straight. Within the silence of society, homosexual activity murmurs almost unnoticed. Yet, amongst those murmurs, a disjointed gay community exists and seems to find each other in the early morning hours at discotecas or boliches (where I eventually found them – a little about that in the next post).

There is a preconceived notion of homosexuals, which, Diego believes, is derived from a lack of dialogue and information in Bolivian society about homosexuality. Stemming from longstanding disapproval and public unfamiliarity with homosexuals, Bolivian gays are typecast as promiscuous and deviant. Which, due to this societal repression, may be true in that the discrete “short-term” relationships are only feasible. When one cannot be publically gay, Diego says, private gay life occurs wherever and whenever one can find it. The secrecy one must maintain is unveiled during those brief moments out of sight and in the proverbial shadows of society.

*          *          *

So where does Diego go from here? And what does the future for the gay community in Bolivia look like?

One place to start is within the family. Diego’s bond with his family is vibrant in nearly every aspect, yet his relationships are muted. The closeness of family, where most children live at home into their late 20’s, infringes on personal privacy and inhibits expression of self. Homosexuals must adapt to their family life, which is often uncomfortable, in order to maintain the familial connection that is so vital to one’s emotional and financial wellbeing. Diego knows of other families who accept their homosexual children, which is certainly an anomaly in Bolivian culture. But once an exemplar of the homosexual community is known, acceptance appears to follow. Diego has turned to an unlikely source of strength, his grandmother, who helped him move on from his first relationship. Within time, his other family members might come to the same understanding.

Studying at a local university, Diego says that homosexuals in Bolivia encounter discrimination from other students, ranging from jokes about their sexual orientation to snide remarks that can “deeply hurt a person.” “The truth is, it’s not as though Bolivia is accustomed [to homosexuals], so there is still discrimination in every way,” Diego laments. He sees open dialogue in schools as a main way to combat discrimination. Validating the existence homosexuality in society and portraying gays as equals, rather than deviants, has the potential to normalize what Diego believes is normal for so many Bolivians.

This absence of homosexuality in the public discourse is common through Bolivia. The lack of conversations subtly propagates this long-standing deprecation of homosexuality. Yet taciturnity keeps homosexuals safer because no one brings up their sexual orientation or doubts the “status quo.”  This sentiment is reminiscent to the United States previous military policy of “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Religion is another wall of Diego’s box that attempts to keep him in form. Growing up in an Evangelical household, he feared their outspoken disapproval on the “sins” of homosexuality. Gays are seen as “living against the principals of God,” Diego says, which further dichotomizes his life. Despite the incongruities between their family’s religious beliefs and Carlos and Diego’s sexuality – both men still hold beliefs in God – a friendlier God.

Despite the obstacles to overcoming homophobia- whether family, religion, or the absence of homosexuality in the public discourse, there is hope in Bolivia for homosexuals. Three of their major cities have gay rights groups, and the first Gay Pride parade took place in Santa Cruz in 2001. The “accepting” generation is getting older, and it appears the murmur under the surface is getting louder. The time may soon come when men and women are not afraid to publicly identify as gay or lesbian.

Come back tomorrow for the next installment of Living Gay in Bolivia, or read the first or second post in this series from Eric Rindal. Eric currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

Day two of my foray into investigative journalism and uncovering the homosexual community in La Paz. I turned again to the internet for insight, which proved to be the most effective avenue to finding access to a well-concealed gay community. I received 13 responses to an ad (“journalist looking for homosexual interviewees”) I posted on Mundo Anuncio (Craigslist for the Spanish speaking world). Only one response was interested in a regular interview, and the other twelve were interested in something else.

Later that day I was drinking coffee with Carlos, an 18-year-old engineering student living in La Paz. Carlos is a very reserved, respectful, and honest young guy who would never intentionally “rock the boat.” In fact, even though he faces his own battle, Carlos feels it is necessary to take on the “hurt [he] has caused his family.” His view of the world is broad and hopeful, yet his reality is narrow and dire. If you met him you’d be intrigued with his calm, wise demeanor; he has known he was gay for his entire life and “faced the consequences” for his feelings.

It was two years ago when a meeting of two sets of frazzled Catholic parents met to talk about their sixteen-year-old sons’ relationship. Carlos’s boyfriend told his parents about the two-months of dating; infuriated, his parents called Carlos’s parents in order to end the “sinning” between the boys. Shocked and grieved, Carlos’s parents did not eat for the week following the news of their true son. What are the consequences of being gay in an extremely Roman Catholic family? A life turned on its head: Carlos was banned from friends, television, movies, cell phone, and internet–for a year and a half.

From the point after the “meeting,” during his year and a half of reprimand, Carlos’s family bond deteriorated to near nonexistence. At the time his sexual orientation was revealed, Carlos’s older sister was pregnant with her first child. “If anything goes wrong with my pregnancy,” she said, “it is your fault because of your sins.” Stricken with fear, Carlos waited. Months later her daughter was born with uneven hips and is forced to use crutches in order to walk. Two years after the birth, Carlos still bears a daily burden of guilt for what “happened” to his niece, because of his “sins.” Recently his older sister saw him walking home with a male friend and she bitterly said, “looks like you’re still gay, your sins are ruining my child’s infancy.” Strong and defiant, Carlos tries to disregard the hurtful attacks. “None of our friends have children like you, why can’t you be normal,” his parents say, or “You have a sickness, you need to get better,” or “You are an embarrassment to our family.” If one day a family member says they accept him, he hears them telling another how they were lying. For these reasons, Carlos cannot and will not trust his family, ever.

For Carlos the family religion is the most enveloping and detrimental preoccupation in his life. Guilt for his sins anchors him to a helpless existence, where he cannot change his sexual orientation, thus even without acting on his homosexuality he is damned for simply existing. Carlos sees religion as the main force driving his parent’s disapproval and emotional detachment from him. In fact, above all, Carlos views traditional religious beliefs in Bolivia as the homosexual’s biggest obstacle to acceptance in the culture. Yes, Carlos still believes in God, but he does not follow the Roman Catholic religion of his family (and 82% of society) as he disagrees with the basic tenants of its theology. Even still, he remains caged by the guilt and shame he should feel for his “sins.”

To cope with this mental and emotional hardship he “represses it all.” Solace is found in writing and drawing. He pulled out a hardcover notebook to let me read his thoughts and view his drawings. Most have to do with finding an unidentified person, or being found by that person, and rescued from hurt, family, and circumstance. It is not specifically a man, but ideally it would be someone with whom he could live “without sin,” in security, in happiness – all the aspects of life he is currently robbed of. I asked if Carlos had dreams, “No,” he replied, “I lost them all when my family began hating me and stopped talking to me for being gay.” While at coffee I prodded him to reveal his dreams. “I don’t have dreams because they are impossible and will never happen.” With moistened eyes he says, “that my family would accept me, and that I’ll find that person to escape with.”

*          *          *

The “ban” on his life ended the day his parents saw him walking home from school with his best friend: a girl. They were certain he was dating her and was no longer gay. “I don’t feel like I’m blood related to my family. I feel like my friends who accept me are my only family,” he says. Carlos is “out” to his closest friends, and he finds his generation in Bolivia more accepting of homosexuality than the older more traditional generation.

Unsure of his future, and unsure if he wants to keep struggling through life, Carlos battles the thoughts of being a “sinner, “causing his niece’s deformity, and being ostracized by his family. Hi still has four years left of intense university study while continuing to live at home. Despite their outspoken disapproval and candid condemnation of their son’s sexual orientation, Carlos’s parents are paying for his education – which binds him, albeit sterilely, to his family. Carlos told me that he has spent entire nights awake, writing out goals and plans to leave his family when he graduates at 22-years-old. He wants to move to France, or Spain, and simply be “free to be who [he] is.” A dream to “live in a place where [he] won’t be repressed, judged, or hated.”

For Carlos, hope lies in the escape, the emancipation from where he is living, and his family. “Finding a relationship within the gay community in La Paz only lasts a night,” he says, “and I want something true and sincere.” To find that long-term relationship and live a publically gay life in Bolivia is nearly impossible. In reality, he says, it may be unimaginable for many years to come. Carlos is not sure where the future will take him; will he leave Bolivia? Will he be rescued? He is giving time, time; and for these reasons he waits, and waits for the moment in his life where he can find his love.

Come back tomorrow for the next installment of Living Gay in Bolivia, or read the first post in this series from Eric Rindal. Eric currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

Kate-

Guess what I did today… Tried to be an investigative journalist. Yeah, fun, but turned out to be pretty dangerous. I needed some more real life information for that post on gay culture in Bolivia. But do you KNOW how hard it is to find a gay bar in La Paz?! I didn’t even know where to start. So I turned to the internet in hopes to find cafes or bars safe for gays to meet, but all the postings I found were outdated websites or Lonely Planet discussion forums.

One site mentioned a café-bar across town. So of course I jump in a taxi alone around 9:30 p.m.; the guy drops me off ten blocks before the place because the road was closed. The streets were empty and it was a shady part of town (REALLY shady). I walked those ten blocks super fast. I lit a cigarette to look tough (I don’t even smoke) while moving through the streets. La Paz, by this point, is cold and misty and kind of scary.  Found it…a house (?) with a call box out front – I click the button, click the button… no answer. Strike one.

Defeated, I take a cab back to my place. Feigning investigative journalist confidence, I ask the cab driver (in my wonderful Spanish): “excuse me, but I have a question that is a little strange. I am a journalist and am writing an article about the gay environment here in Bolivia. Do you know any gay bars here?” The taxista thinks for a moment, mulls the question over and nods! He says, “Shoot. I’ll take you to Caballito.” Great, I think, el Caballito. I am dropped off before a black metal gate and pay the taxista, who speeds off. Great? Someone is outside the gate so I ask, “is this Caballito?” “No! This is a house, and there are no clubs on this street!” I was so confused… Strike two?

What to do but ask the shop owner next door about Caballito. The cholita selling sodas LITERALLY looks both ways, then whispers, “It’s very dangerous around here, but yes there are many gay people…but they arrive around 3 in the morning.” So, I decide to wait. For THREE hours I sit at a bar with Romero, the large, old owner of a nearby discoteca. At 12:30 a.m. I lose patience and I steel myself to go knock on the metal gate of Caballito. And I see an eye in the peephole!; I cower. It disappears; Romero comes out of his discoteca to help me. Tells the guy I’m a friend and should be allowed in. Nope! No entrance until 3 a.m… I decide not to wait a total of 6 hours to enter Caballito. Strike three. I head home.

Back in my quiet apartment, I search online for Caballito. It is one of 3 well-known illegal bars in La Paz. The other two are Route 36, the world’s only cocaine bar, and Blues, an illegal club only for foreigners (non-Bolivians). They are all sometimes shut down, move locations, or raided. Caballito is actually also a functioning brothel of sorts, cocaine bar, and is only open from 3-7 a.m. They have 12 guards at the door, they pay off the police to not come within blocks of the area, and it’s super dangerous. Not your typical Castro District gay bar. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t go in by myself… or in at all.

I’ll keep you posted,

Eric

*          *          *

I know La Vida Idealist is an international development blog geared toward volunteering. But from my time living in other cultures (both in South America and Africa), volunteering with development organizations, I encountered something that I found equally as interesting to me as economic development: Societal Development; in the sense of progressive societies vs. staunch societies — in this case, attitudes toward homosexuality.

When volunteering in another country it is easy to perceive the visible culture: how the indigenous population may influence the national art and dance, or how the differing altitudes and geography affect attitudes and diets of the population. These are the “ships” on the surface of the cultural “ocean” that quite possibly your grandma will ask about over dinner when you return home. However, if one lives long enough within a culture or has the interest and curiosity to dive deeper into the lives of those around them, they may find the surface of a culture, though extremely vast, is rarely as vibrant and lively as its depths.

Machismo gender roles permeate most every aspect of Bolivian life, where men are unequivocally men, and women are coquettishly women. Bolivians are also fervently religious; about 82% identify as Roman Catholic and 10% are Evangelic (Pentecostal or Non-Catholic Charismatic). One of the more influential factors in the lives of Bolivian homosexuals is the close proximity of the nuclear and extended family, which creates and shapes expectations of what the family values are and are not.

Where does homosexual orientation fit in all this? In many, if not most cases, its song is muted and homosexuals continue to hold their breath under the river current of an unaccepting society. With little dialogue of homosexuality in the workplace, schools or home, religious perspectives ingrained in the culture, and strict gender roles, Bolivian gay men and women defy a large part of who they are to fit the mold of who they are not. I had the rare and fortunate opportunity to meet and talk with not-so-rare homosexual men during my time in Bolivia. The next three posts will tell their stories.

Come back tomorrow for the next installment of Living Gay in Bolivia. For the record, Eric’s editor responded with a very concerned request to please not get himself gringo-napped while doing his research. Eric Rindal is currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

Before I volunteered as a Kiva Fellow in Sierra Leone (May of 2011) and Bolivia (September 2011), I was living in Santa Barbara, California. Imagine: Santa Barbara beaches saturated with color, mansions with the smell of jasmine twisting through the air, and a pace of life only to be set by the sun. While there, I was working for a de jure artist and took up the ranks as a de facto artist myself. Life was pretty easy, and moving to a developing country and working with microfinance seemed a million miles away. Leaving it all made me wonder why I would forfeit the comfort and normalcy of home for places where it feels like I have to relearn basic parts of life (i.e. restroom, showers, and food).

While volunteering, I was often asked , “Why would you come volunteer in my country?” Each time, I rambled about a desire to foster opportunities in the development of people around the world. But that is just it, how concise can pre-volunteers really be?

Well, the life of a volunteer goes with the wind. Four weeks ago I was living in Sierra Leone and today I am sitting in an office in Bolivia. Obviously, volunteering is not the most advantageous financial move one can make; in fact, while in the States, I qualified for free immunizations before coming to Bolivia because I was “low income”. In all honesty, most volunteers are a footnote to an organization’s real employees, and the “We couldn’t do it without you” speech only gets volunteers high for a split second. So why endure the bucket showers in Sierra Leone and language barriers in South America? Why volunteer?

For me, it has to do with something I encountered as a child while hiking around my home in Washington State. I saw the diverse beauty of nature: cedars, Douglas firs, ferns, and myriad wildflowers. I then thought about the diverse beauty of humanity (although those weren’t my exact thoughts as a child…). What it came down to was that I knew people (and the world) had to be different beyond my hometown population of ninety-something.

I didn’t leave and volunteer to “save the world.” (Do people still do that?) Rather, I had this desire to cease to be dichotomized from the developing world. Volunteering was a means to share life with people and hope to understand why populations live at different standards of living. This, hopefully, is joining in the process of lifting people out of poverty –the more minds and hearts that are included in the “process” (any process or cause you are voluneering for), the more potential there is to yield results and answers.

The wonder in volunteering, I have found, is simply in the interaction between me and a Kiva Borrower (those who recieve loans). In most cases, we each have something to add to the life of the other. With Kiva, microfinance volunteer work is geared to sustainably enable entrepreneurs in developing countries by facilitating capital for their business through loans.

My greatest interest in life was to see this “process,” and I have been so encouraged by what Kiva Borrowers are doing with their loans to better their lives. In reality, when any volunteers collaborate with people in development, we begin to answer for ourselves the questions we could not articulate beforehand. Within it all, volunteers are fortunate to take the time and witness the diverse beauty of humanity.

Yes, Kiva warned us Fellows about this. But I felt it was simply a mirage or, at least, a pit for the weak and inexperienced. But when one sails further away from home, their ship seems to disappear from friends and relationships in the fog. It is as if we fall of the edge of this flat ol’ earth. And if there comes a time when the organization with which you volunteer doesn’t seem to value you as they once did, then your own purpose of presence becomes blurred. Without warning, it feels like your volunteer experience changes from a great piece of literature to a cheap romance novel. Not even a Snickers bar or a hamburger can jog your memory to the pre-Trough-blues and yank you back to that original bravado which sent you to God-knows-where Bolivia in the first place.

So take heed, my friends, those who may be toeing that line of gung hoe volunteer and get-me-the-hell-out volunteer: I have six pieces of advice to get you back on your horse and move along!

1. Get to a place with a view

NOTE:

Don’t go to a high place if you want to jump!

WHY?

It gives you perspective on how big the world is and how small the buildings and people are. This gives you perspective on the Trough and your troubles within it. Remember the Trough is of disillusionment, and despite how real it might feel, you can make it through!

***

2. Clean your apartment

NOTE:

At least take the garbage out…

WHY?

It will make you feel like the place is yours. Clean and organize your small rented room or apartment or twelve-bed hostel dormitory- small personal touches in your living space will help you get settled.

***

3. Run some stairs

NOTE:

Even if it’s two flights, you’ll feel like Rocky Balboa.

WHY?

It will stop you from moping and gets the blood flowing! Lethargy is a symptom of the Trough and stairs distract you from any disillusioned feelings…even if it’s for 15 seconds, it helps.

***

4. Splurge on Dinner

NOTE:

Depending on what country you’re living in, “splurging” can be between $3-$20. Even a volunteer can afford that once and a while.

WHY?

It will make you feel special. And you need that right now.

***

5. Clean your eco-friendly water bottle!

NOTE:

If you unscrew the lid and look around wondering what smells like dead pumpkins, it’s probably your dirty eco-friendly water bottle.

WHY?

It will bring about new beginnings. You’ll feel like you did at the beginning of your volunteer experience: unsullied, clean, and ready for the road ahead.

***

6. Talk to those deadbeats from high school and college

NOTE:

This might temporarily sink you deeper in the trough, but a few well-placed phone calls and emails to your friends sitting in their parents’ basements or, worse yet, cubicles, will immediately catapult you from the trough. This may require small-talk-catch-up on Facebook… but worth it once you look at their pictures (inevitably with other deadbeats from high school or college).

WHY?

It will remind you why you moved to another country in the first place! Trust me, it works.

***

And finally, rest your blog readers’ minds and let them know how resilient you are, because in one way or another, the trough will strengthen your heart and mind (and backbone) and exemplify your steadfastness  as you change the world volunteering!

This is Eric Rindal’s first post on La Vida Idealist. Eric is currently working with the 16th Class of Kiva Fellows in Bolivia, bouncing between La Paz, Cochabamba, and Santa Cruz.

Uyuni residence

During a two-day tour I discovered a world where everything you see looks like snow, but really you’ve got kilometers of salt fields reflecting nothing but mountains, blue sky and the jeep your guide is driving. The Salar de Uyuni salt flats seemed completely devoid of life, yet on the edges in estuarine ponds lived black frogs and pink flamingos; it is a world of juxtaposition and mirror images.

When you arrive in the small town of Uyuni there are numerous tour agencies waiting to sign you up as their passenger into the Salar.  It cold, and feels like a cross between a fishing village and ski resort.  However for all the liveliness, you don’t have to drive a kilometer to feel like you are in an old western ghost town, complete with dusty roads and abandon, roof-less houses.  The tour operator told us the locals aren’t staying, life is harsh and work is limited to the salt flats or tourism.

Full moon in the morning

The next day after driving over one hundred kilometers across the saltflats, barren land was crisscrossed with mordarless stone fences – maybe to separate the llama which roam the grasslands.  The outpost of an hospedaje where the fourty tourists from various tour companies conglomeratly stayed, was essentially camping with walls.  Toilets didn’t flush, we ate spaghetti in jackets and gloves, and at 8 p.m. cast sleeping bags on beds that felt more like hammocks than mattresses.  It connected us to the tundra-like landscape, brick and mud structures, and made us reliant on “Ellie” who ran the show at the residence and held the keys to the only power-strip and method for battery recharging during the trip.

The beauty and ruggedness is what called many of us to this place, like Machu Picchu or Lake Titicaca in Perú.  Watching the sunset, and then forcing myself out of bed at 5:30 to see the sunrise, I could not help but wonder when the Salar would be populated like one of the many Peruvian wonders.  It is hard not to cast questions into the universe when looking across 10,000 sq kilometers of salt that has the ability to perfectly reflect a mountain or cloud.  But for how long, and in what ways will the Salar remain barren – and what will be our cumulative ecological impact on the salar itself?

For another recent LVI post on visiting the Salt Flats in Salar de Uyuni. check out Luba Guzei’s recent post “Getting to Chile: Remarkably Less Chilly.” Shala Racicky is the former Volunteer Coordinator at the Sarapiquì Conservation Learning Center in Sarapiquì, Costa Rica. Shala has just embarked on a twelve week trip from Bolivia back to Costa Rica, and she’ll be documenting her journey with La Vida Idealist each step of the way!

The ride is nothing less than a sheer jaw-dropping and spectacular experience. The high-altitude sun and chilling breeze on the Yungas cliffs provides perfect clarity. In this rugged landscape you know the only way to live is seeking spectacular views and gliding down mountains.

As a road biker accustomed to 18-wheeled trucks and Costa Rican traffic, I wasn’t worried about my nerves on the high cliffs, but the real speeds, gravel and strangeness of the mountain bike, tested this theory. I did go too fast, and coming around a corner approaching the 1,000-foot cliff, I pulled the front brake and turned 90 degrees. Or something – it happened so fast I never even put my hands out…

The company I used, Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, takes approximately 1,000 riders per month with generally about four injuries (numbers are higher for companies with poorly maintained equipment). According to Gravity’s manager my incident was minor. For example I did not fly over the edge as a Japanese woman did the week prior (different company), nor where any bones broken. Apparently broken collar bones are #1; one lady busted her front teeth less than a week before her wedding. I just shattered the better part of two front teeth and required over 20 facial stitches. These are those unexpected moments that test your resolution and can alter where the journey leads.

I won’t elaborate on my particular state when I was laying on the emergency room table after a two hour drive from the Yungas, trusting two doctors to stitch up my face while my teeth were fractured and hanging in my mouth. It was a dark moment, I’ll say that. The clarity from the Yungas was lost, the simplicity of morning striped away. Wondering why we make these choices, I wanted to be anywhere but traveling alone and standing on a mountain top. Yet I can can not guarantee that I would not do it again. We are all, after-all, on the ride of a lifetime.

Shala Racicky is the former Volunteer Coordinator at the Sarapiquì Conservation Learning Center in Sarapiquì, Costa Rica. Shala has just embarked on a twelve week trip from Bolivia back to Costa Rica, and she’ll be documenting her journey with La Vida Idealist each step of the way!