This philosophy has never rung more true in my life than over the last week. I am on vacation from volunteering in Santiago right now, traveling through Peru and Bolivia. Lesson of the week: the more you see the more you realize you haven’t seen.

I have truly developed a new passion for traveling and seeing what the rest of the world has to offer, for better or worse. Originally the trip was going to consist of one destination, the infamous Machu Picchu. But I was going to be so close to the Uyuni Salt Flats, and to not stop would be a travesty. (Of course I wanted to get the oh so coveted pictures of the vast salt desert with the distorted depth perception.)  Then one traveler recommended a couple of beautiful cities on the way to Machu Picchu that are a “must see,” Arequipa and Cusco in Peru. Another traveler recommended a stop in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, on our way to Uyuni. Of course, there was a multitude of other suggestions but we had to be realistic with our time and money constraints.

Traveling to developing countries doesn’t come without sacrifices to your health, your pocket book and your well-being, but it is most definitely worth it. So far I have had bed bugs in Santiago, elevation sickness in Peru, and food poisoning in Bolivia. That alone sounds like enough to make someone run like Forrest Gump in the opposite direction to the conveniences and pleasantries of home in America. But it’s not. And let’s not forget the pleasure of drying your clothes after they’ve been washed, or a consistently hot shower. Or indoor heating. Or the convenience of putting your dirty toilet paper directly into the toilet. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy these things, but it is still not enough to deter me from wanting more: the joy of helping people less fortunate than yourself, the rush of skiing in the Andes, the accomplishment of climbing Machu Picchu, and a view from the top that is more than enough. But even better, the thought of sharing it all with the person you love brings new meaning to the beauty.

It looks like my time in Chile, Peru and Bolivia is only the beginning of new discoveries. Thanks, Lao Tse for pointing out everything I don’t know.

Lindsey Chapman is currently traveling. When she returns, her next posts will cover things to see and do (and their cost) in Peru and Bolivia.

The purpose of the jornada is for the whole group to have a chance to come together to reflect and refocus on the mission behind what we are trying to accomplish at VE. It was very easy for me to become side-tracked amidst the excitement of travel, meeting new people and places, and the fact that Santiago is one big non-stop party.

We began the weekend with loads of silly team building activities and mushy talks that really set the stage for the entire weekend. We broke into small groups and discussed the multi-dimensional aspects of poverty and the endless cycles that exist within the economic classes.  The disparity between the classes here in Santiago is immense. With 18.2% of the population under the poverty line, the top 10% of the population here consumes 41.7% of resources while the bottom 10% consumes only 1.6%. The statistics are alarmingly drastic, and probably are in the country where you reside as well.

Photo of Cajón del Maipo from Flickr user Naturaleza

One of the aims of VE is to seek to improve awareness  and in turn, improve the situation for those in need. When you view poverty from an outside perspective, many times it is easy to mistake the effects of poverty for the causes, and the cycle continues. I believe a difficult cycle exists within the upper classes as well.  People who grow up with money become accustomed to having and doing certain things that are no longer recognized as privileged, but normal. My heart breaks when I think about the privileges I have been handed and taken for granted. Most of those being privileges that the children at Anakena, the school where I teach, would never imagine possible. I am not from the view that everyone should feel ashamed and guilty for taking advantage of opportunities in life. However, I do think it is our responsibility to be aware of what truly is privilege and what is necessity. Fortunately and unfortunately, those of us who have never experienced what poverty feels like will never be able to fully empathize with those who endure the oppression that poverty brings with it. We are left to strive for awareness and compassion.

During our weekend retreat, we were given free time for some reflection of our personal and professional goals as well as objectives we hope to achieve within our institutions and with the children. It was so refreshing to take the time to sit alone with nothing but your thoughts, a pen and paper. One of my personal goals in coming to Chile was to consummate my independence as a woman. The first step was getting here alone. The second step is being intentional about tracking the progress of my goals in a tangible way. Andy Garberson’s latest blog, “Location, Location, Location,” gives a really great practical way of doing this by creating a collage of “firsts” for every day.

I have learned that it really isn’t enough to simply desire to be a certain type of person, you have to live it. Someone recently told me a phrase that really stuck with me. “Let yourself be defined by your actions.” Although a simple theme, the phrase inherently carries with it a deep-rooted, yet fundamental challenge to be the person you want to be.  As I sit here in Chile, journal in hand, I bring this challenge to you. Wherever you are in life, whether you are traveling abroad in China or Latin America or you are settled in a place you call home, allow yourself to be defined by your actions, and you will actually become the person you want to be.

Lindsey Chapman is currently a volunteer with VE Global, at Colegio Anakena. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Try to picture this: me cruising down what they call a bunny hill here in Chile, at a speed far exceeding what I could possibly have control over. Then barely making it down, avoiding a couple of wipe outs due to sheer luck.

The next logical choice is to try making it to the top of the mountain, right? Well, that’s what my brain decided. You have to take two chair lifts to get to the top, which takes a good forty minutes.  For a person who still uses the snowplow turn pretty consistently, this was probably not the wisest of choices, something I realized as I escalated higher and higher. Low and behold, just as I’m about to proudly dismount the chair lift in an attempt to blend in with the advanced skiers surrounding me, my ski slips and I fall flat on my rear. It was sort of a full body wobble, ending with me in a starfish pose, ski-less.

Photo of the Andes via Creative Commons from Flickr user Here Everywhere

As I gathered myself and my gear, I stood up. I realized that even though I had a really difficult descent ahead of me, it was definitely going to be worth it to witness the view of the Andes Mountains I was staring at that very moment. Despite my lack of control and skills in skiing,  I couldn’t quit halfway up the mountain out of fear of falling and miss out on such a beautiful masterpiece. It’s a theme I think applies to a lot of things in life. There are many situations that can seem too difficult to bear, or even seem unattainable.  But if you just try — sometimes many times — overcoming the hardships is what makes life worth living.

Philosophy aside, I sat perched on the top of the mountain for a good twenty minutes before descending, soaking up all the beauty nature was offering me. I had never seen anything like it before. The trek down, however, was a long slow battle. I was probably the least able-bodied skier to ever approach the top of the mountain and attempt to make it down on skis. After about thirty minutes of intense snowplowing — I familiarized myself with a few of the snow banks, ending up with a couple of sore thighs — I made it down without killing myself. Even though I probably looked like a fool doing it, that was definitely a mountain worth climbing, and a day worth living.

Lindsey Chapman is currently a volunteer with VE Global, at Colegio Anakena. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

People grumble and look on warily, digging in their pockets for monedas, and at the end they resignedly fork over a big coin or a small one, depending on the originality of the act.

As in most cities, street performers in Santiago are par for the course. At best they are seen as raggamuffins, at worst as criminals. Most are young, not only making a living, but also living on the streets. For this they are outcast and stereotyped as drug addicts.

Based on the number of local projects in Santiago to rehabilitate street youth (Corporación Nuestra Casa and Corporación la Esperanza are two that are currently looking for volunteers) it’s clear that this stereotype is partially based in truth. But what overwhelms it is the originality and relevance of the messages these jovenes send. If street youth are an integral part of city life, their stories are an honest and unapologetic reflection of the city’s reality.

After months commuting on the trans-Santiago bus system, four performances have found a place in my heart:

When I was newly-arrived to Chile and still reeling a bit from my continental adjustment, I got on the bus with a map and a mission to get lost and find my way home again (my favorite getting-my-bearings activity). Soon after a man and his guitar boarded the bus and started singing Mercedes Sosa’s “Todo Cambia.” I had never heard the song before, but he sang it with such haunting nostalgia that I felt like he was talking directly to me about my ever-changing life.

One particularly chilly Tuesday I was about to hop off the bus at my home stop when a pair of guys stepped on board, instruments in hands. In an effort to avoid my unheated apartment and the pile of laundry lurking there, I stayed to listen. They introduced themselves as members of the group Andinamo (a name, they told me after, which plays on their Andean-influenced sound and their mission to raise the ánimo (spirits) of their audience). There’s nothing like the vibes of La Pachamama coming through a rendition of “Dust in the Wind.”

The night before the Chile-España World Cup game, the energy in the city was buzzing. Feeding off of this (and more than a few bottles of vino, I think), two boys donned cheesy checkered suits, bowler hats, and fake moustaches and acted the part of empassioned sports announcers. They growled, spat, shouted, grunted, and cheered (GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!) their way through the last 15 minutes of what they projected (tragically, erroneously) to be an agonizingly close victory for Chile. They managed to crack smiles on each and every one of the zombie commuter faces.

The last was a band of young rappers whose lyrics and rhythm were their own, and who relied only on mouth tricks and foot taps on the floor to keep their beat. They, of all the informal artists I have seen, looked most the part of the troubled street gang. But their five-minute lyrical dialogue did a convincing job of proving that these lost boys were much more than matted hair and tattered jeans. When they could have been panhandling or pick-pocketing, there they were, singing to make their buck.

Their chorus: “Apoyamos al arte/Y no al delincuencia.” We support art/Not crime.

Kati Mayfield is a Kiva Fellow who is working in Santiago, Chile at Fundacíon Esperanza.

I’ve been struggling with saying goodbye, too. “Goodbye,” “Adiós,” “Chao,” “Nos vemos” – there’s simply no easy way to say it. But for me “goodbye“ just doesn’t exist; it has to be “take care” and “see you later.”

We’ve all heard of the reverse culture shock that usually happens to those who return to their homelands or perhaps journey on to yet another new destination, but what happens during the time drawing near – the time when you haven’t actually left yet?

As a volunteer, I don’t think you can help but put your whole heart and soul into your every experience, and yet with that comes a small burden to bear – the emotional tear of having to move on often knowing that you might not have had the time to achieve all that you’d wanted to, for no lack of will, nor fault, of anyone.

How too, bid farewell to new families and friends, to the smiles of those who greet you and the warmth of spirit so apparent where service and generosity have no sum attached to them.

My time here is one I would not change for anything, and I feel like one of the luckiest people in the world to have had this experience. However, guilt is something I do struggle a little with – guilt for all the ideas I’ve had and haven’t had long enough to implement; guilt for having to go when there’s so much yet to be done; guilt for making all too brief an appearance in the lives of my students. I didn’t want to be another who just came and is now gone.

Yet there’s an expression I once read on a sympathy card and that has stayed with me ever since: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

And that’s what I intend to do. Because at some point, this time inevitably comes and for volunteers I think it’s perhaps a necessity to regroup and recharge so that you’re ready for the next round.

I remind myself of what I did achieve; how technology (even with some limitations) makes it so easy to keep in contact; and how I may not have got through all that I’d hoped to but that perhaps the next person will pick up where I left off, or the one after, or the one after that one…. That’s not a failure on the part of any one of us – it’s progress.

And of my students, I always said that if I could inspire just one then every moment of my time here has been worth it.  As I thought of this again a few days ago and observed at least eight in a class of 30 so intently focused, I felt sure that just maybe there’s been even more than one.

Tears will be shed, of that I have no doubt but, beneath the waterfall will be a smile and heartfelt gratitude for the everlasting moments. I will feel proud of what has been achieved and be confident in my tenacity to continue in some way from afar. Lastly, I’ll neither bid “goodbye“ nor “farewell“ but a definite “hasta luego” and a “prometo” to return.

Amanda Patterson recently wrapped up a stint teaching English and public speaking as a volunteer with Corporation for the Development of Learning (CDA) in Santiago, Chile. She is currently traveling, but will be heading soon to Guatemala for her next adventure.

Photo of celebration of World Cup game from Flickr user Kmilo

“Chi Chi Chi – Le Le Le Viva Chile!” is what I heard walking into Anakena on Friday. As the children arrived, the tias were painting the students faces in Chile’s colors of red, white and blue. They were blowing horns and shouting this famous cry of all Chileans during the World Cup.  All the students and staff at Anakena had gathered to cheer on their team and eat completos for the game against Spain on this Friday. (Completos, in case you don’t know, are a very popular Chilean delicacy. It is simply a hot dog smothered in guacamole, mayo, diced tomato, and ketchup. It is enormously messy and all the kids were wearing their completos by the end of the game after sufficiently playing with them rather than consuming them.)

I’m not sure who was more excited after the game on Friday, the students or the tias. Even after a LOSS, they were brimming with anticipation for the upcoming game versus the famous Brazilians! It was so great to spend some time with them outside of classroom lessons, just having fun. I feel like I am getting to see more of who they are as people. I can tell the kids are feeling more comfortable with me and that is encouraging. I am also beginning to decipher the students specific speech impediments, despite my Spanish language incompetence, which is helpful for both them and me.  As I continue to work on my Spanish, and learn the types of words and sounds the children struggle with, I will be able to help them so much more effectively. I will also be able to develop closer and more real relationships with them. The mere  thought of that brings me so much joy.

Lindsey Chapman is currently a volunteer with VE Global, at Colegio Anakena. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Avenida Grecia in Santiago, Chile

Fact: You don’t need Spanish to survive the Chilean jungle, necesitas Chilean! The concoction of unique words and phrases gives the language its flair;  the sheer speed with which it’s spoken can make it seem like another language for a beginner.

Fiction: Damage sustained by many inner Santiago buildings during the earthquake is superficial only. But if that’s really the case, then why do those who work in the buildings suggest it’s better that you use the stairs?

Fact: The smog is real. Starting from the outskirts of the city, Santiago lies obscured by a smothering blanket of gray. Everyday.

Fiction: A commune is usually associated with religious sects, co-ops and more. While true, a commune in Chile is likewise the name given to the smallest administrative regions.

Fact: Lunch is sacrosanct and the focus of the business day. Whatever you do, don’t miss it or even for a moment suggest that you might.

Fiction: Volunteers are wealthy. Most are more heart and soul than large bank accounts, scrimping and saving wherever they can just to follow, and fight, for what they believe in.

Fact: Chileans do like to dance. The social occasions I’ve made it to have been full of chatty conversation, food and more food, fabulous music, and shaking your groove thing.

Fiction: Banks are a safe bet if you need to exchange some cash. In truth, most banks seem to require a permanent residence and a personal account so the foreign currency exchange is a much better option.

Fact: Every night’s a late night when it comes to shopping – a bit different from back home in New Zealand where late night for stores means 9 p.m. twice a week.

Fiction: The bell sounding means it’s time to start class. More often than not this seems to be regarded as a suggestion to “Finish what you’re doing and when you’re ready, we’ll think about starting”

Fact: When you follow the subway signs saying combinación, you can travel the whole of Santiago swapping metro lines several times for just a single swipe of the bip! card.

Fiction: Only so many people can fit inside a metro at once. Wrong!  There’s no such thing as a full metro; you can always cram more in.

Fact: If you jump on the Ruta Rojo during peak times but your stop lies on Ruta Verde, you’ll probably wonder why your destination goes flying past you.

Fiction: Red lights mean stop. Or more realistically, “Stop only if something is coming.”

Fact: Chilean charm abounds. The idiosyncrasies give the country charisma; the oddities, a sense of humor.  And nearly everywhere you’ll find a warm and generous spirit – with just the right amount of cheek.

Amanda Patterson is currently teaching English and public speaking as a volunteer with Corporation for the Development of Learning (CDA) in Santiago, Chile.

In the midst of Copa Mundial fervor here in Chile, every home appliance and electronics store is offering “baratísima” deals on TVs of every size and shape, but particularly on Plasmas. I assumed that the frenzy of these “buy your new high-definition, 50-inch, Plasma [which refers to either a plasma or an LCD TV, as it turns out]” advertisements was only reaching well-to-do Santiaguinos. But a visit to a client’s home yesterday proved me wrong.

This home was missing a window – unrepaired damage from the February earthquake – and did not have a refrigerator. (Although now, in winter, with no heat and an open window, room temperature is about 45 degrees which means that perishable goods store just fine.) Yet, in the center of the living room, there it stood – the new Plasma.

There is something about the big black (or white, in the case of the one you see here ) screen turning on for the first time to make its high-def debut that never fails to startle me. I had the same surprise when I arrived to my last apartment in Honduras, which was furnished with a flatscreen TV, yet tried to pass off a mini fridge and a hotplate as a “kitchen.”

For some people, a television is more logical than a refrigerator. A group of clients I once visited in rural Honduras had recently celebrated the arrival of electricity to their village by purchasing televisions. Their new power grid was run by solar energy, and worked very effectively to power lights and small appliances, but was not designed to power large appliances – like televisions and refrigerators – for any amount of time. But unlike fridges, you can run a TV for only a few hours per day; and for this community, the televisions were an important symbol of a new era of better living standards.

Though the same economic logic cannot necessarily be applied here in Santiago, Chile (a new refrigerator costs around $350, and even “en oferta” the cheapest Plasma is going for about $700), TVs definitely serve as status symbols.  And there’s no doubting the social obligation to be plugged-in in high-def to watch the Orgullo Rojo win their World Cup matches.

To read more about the overwhelming pride Chileans feel for their team, read Lindsey Chapman’s post,  “A Week of Three Firsts.”

Fans after the World Cup win.

2.  I experienced my first Chilean World Cup win last Wednesday. They beat Honduras one to nil. I thought people in the States were obnoxious when it came to rooting for their home teams, however, I humbly concede that Chilean celebrations far exceed any celebration of a sporting event I have ever witnessed or heard of in the States. It is not even in the same ball park. The festivities commence the night before the game and increasingly anarchy and chaos ensue, resulting in tear gas, water cannons, flares and mass destruction. I was awoken several times to honking horns, beating drums, yelling and clapping. In my sleepy haze, I thought a high school band decided to hold their practice on my head board. Work and school is either canceled or dismissed temporarily. Immediately following the game, the streets below my apartment filled with crazed fans, pooling in from every bar, house and establishment that housed a television. The crowds swelled so much that the roads had to be closed. Riot police lined the sidewalks to prevent looting and violent mob mentality.  However, the crazed celebrations simply cannot be effectively controlled and violence was sure to ensue. Eventually the riot police resorted to specially equipped vehicles that released tear gas and sprayed 50 meter streams of water.  Loco, right?

3.  What Chileans refer to as hills, I refer to as mountains. This week I ran up my first mountain, Cerro San Cristobal, which stands at 880 meters above sea level. The elevation kicked my butt, coming from an elevation of 240 meters in the planes of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, but I’ve never been on  a run with a better view. It is so amazing to look out onto a big beautiful city with the enormous snow covered Andes in the background. Photographs do nothing for something so spectacular.

Lindsey Chapman is currently a volunteer with VE Global, at Colegio Anakena. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

The cracks begin to show...

However, these moments of self-indulgence are really only that: split-seconds. The moments actually only ever hit me when I’ve spent less time than I’d hoped for with the students i.e. when classes have been canceled or other school events take priority. When such thoughts do cross my mind, something always seems to happen to make me totally ashamed of having them, like when two of my students presented me with the most delicious homemade bread that had my name baked into it for example. But I’ve quickly learned to recognize the warning signs (or cracks!) and usually, as old and decrepit as it makes me sound, what I need is to just lie down and rest my mind for a bit.

Besides, it’s these tougher times that are so much a part of what volunteers do and strengthen us as individuals. As much as we work to open doors and help makes things better for organizations and individuals, we also feed off the energy we receive in return and that gives us the impetus to keep going. Our experiences can have highs and they can have lows but forums like this also show how similar, but equally unique, the journey is for all of us.

Just last week I met another La Vida Idealist blogger. The opportunity to chat and share our thoughts and experiences was such an incredible boost, and a great reminder of all the reasons why we do this.

Amanda Patterson is currently teaching English and public speaking as a volunteer with Corporation for the Development of Learning (CDA) in Santiago, Chile