There are occasional strikes here anyway, mostly of the transit kind, and mostly in response to violence — such as when rowdy soccer fans roughed up about thirty buses after the national soccer championships. August, however, saw the implementation of strikes across the public sector to influence the allocation of the national budget: health workers, teachers, and even state bureaucrats raised their signs. Not everyone is the biggest fan of this – it’s inconvenient to be sure – but they knew it was coming and they are dealing.

Union rally downtown

Some American English teachers I know here are also a bit dismayed, as some of them work at the IPA, a teacher-training institute which has been occupied by the students for several weeks now. The students are lobbying to have the education budget increased to 6% of the GDP. With the occupation rumored to continue into September and the U.S. teachers’ contracts ending in November, that doesn’t leave them much time to do what they imagined coming here to do. The strikes do, however, provide didactic lessons of a different sort. How important it is to check the news, before you find yourself waiting at a bus stop forever. How to resign yourself to the gap between your plans and hopes and those of co-workers with a much longer time horizon. How to fill suddenly empty days. How institutionalized strikes here are a form of redress.

I don’t know much about labor movements back home in the United States, but mention strikes and I come up with: the baseball strike. The Hollywood writers strike. The hockey lockout. All entertainment based. Good things did come out of them for the benefit of the nation: Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog comes to mind, and the boost Sonia Sotomayor’s Supreme Court bid got from her reputation as “baseball’s savior.” But I don’t really watch sports or T.V. I do use public transportation, as did the millions affected by the New York Transit Strike of 2005, which is probably why it got resolved a lot more quickly. I’m sure I’ve forgotten other strikes.

I don’t have the statistics on how influential the strikes here in Uruguay are, and I imagine at some point their predictability undermines their efficiency. But I do find it interesting how something so overtly part of the political landscape here occupies such a sporadic place in the U.S. these days – or at least, because of the size of the U.S. and the smaller likelihood of stumbling over a massive rally on your walk home, it feels that way.

Flora Lindsay-Herrera is currently a Fulbright Fellow in Montevideo, Uruguay. For more about her experiences, check out her blog. For more on politics in Latin America, check out “Loaded Questions on Wheels: Politics and God,” “Coming to the U.S. Sin Papeles,” “Day in the Life: Elections in a Foreign Land,” “An Avalanche of Human Rights for Same-Sex Couples,” and “Can English Really Open Doors?”

Real travel writing

The Pulitzer Prize-winning biography of internationally renowned physician and anthropologist Dr. Paul Farmer, Mountains Beyond Mountains, is a prerequisite for anyone hoping to have a meaningful impact abroad or even search the Idealist.org job boards. The book’s author, Tracy Kiddler, makes an easy-to-miss observation on page 219 that defines Farmer’s “internationality” and, conveniently enough, that of many exposed to this blog:

Embracing a continuity and interconnectedness that excluded no one seemed like another of Farmer’s peculiar liberties. It came with a lot of burdens, but it also freed him from the efforts that many people make to find refuge and distinction from their pasts, and from the mass of their fellow human beings.

The excerpt presents a highly self-analytical question to the internationally mobile population of dreamers and do-gooders: Are you running from or toward something? Only the delusional would argue that there is nothing personal about their flight. Just looking to make the world a better place by giving back to the less fortunate? That’s touching, and partially true, but why?

There is always something in there for you. Maybe it is a source for inspiration, a chance to escape the monotony of the known, a way to be unique, or an admission to a cause that is bigger than you and people like you. Everyone has something that (literally) moves them and if can you understand the driving forces behind your time abroad, the desired destination will be much easier to find.

So crack that travel journal that’s collecting dust next to your bed and compose an entry different from the last, which was probably about Latin men that can dance and your sudden questioning of Christian values. What inspired your current or desired position in life? Who and what are the external influences? What things are being pushed away? What is being pulled closer?

Take your eyes off the horizon for a moment and focus on the ride. You’ll be amazed how the road unfolds ahead of you. Safe travels.

Andrew Garberson is the Director of Communications at Transitions Foundation, a wicked-awesome organization that supports and empowers Guatemalans with disabilities. He supplements his time in Antigua, Guatemala by preaching the value of enlightened travel and chronicling the effects of the developing world on a fragile gringo immune system.

Photo from Flickr user 100Wasser

A few months ago I left my volunteer position with Ya’axché Conservation Trust in what I think was a career upgrade. I moved to Guatemala to start a position, hold your hats readers, with pay! Now, being the polite albeit devastatingly curious people that we all are, I’m sure you are dying to know what sort of pay a cherub-faced, 22-year-old know-nothing has been able to earn in this unforgiving economy.

But you probably wouldn’t ask in fear of breaking the sacred code of money-talk etiquette often seen in the West: Never ask how much. Conversely, Guatemalans will ask how much your left shoe cost you without a second of hesitation. Living in such a money-obsessed, impoverished community has been difficult and bitter, and at the increased exposure to the question “How much?” I find myself fretting for my personal financial future. How much will graduate school applications cost? How much will I make as a barista working part-time? How much will I possibly be able to make with a degree in sustainable development?

To quench your thirsting curiosity, I earn Q2000 a month, the equivalent of $250. Over the course of the next year, I’ll be making less than the cost of one semester of schooling at my university. The following year, I plan on spending ten times as much for graduate school. After that, I expect to pay more dues through internships and entry-level jobs making a pittance.  I seem to be welcoming a decade of debt, with wide open pockets.

I’ve been talking a lot about an article the New York Times Magazine published last weekend that shed light on the current predicament of us “emerging adults:” no spouse, no children, no financial independence, and no determined financial stability in sight. Though our paths are all different, what we have in common is our dwindling bank accounts and idealistic views leading us in directions that offer little pay, but great reward. Though I sometimes curse my inability to enjoy two bottles of wine and a wheel of cheese each week, it all comes back to the knowledge that I am working towards something I think is important, enjoyable, commendable, and just downright good.

Please don’t let small paychecks and missing comforts guide you away from a challenging life in the field. At the end of the day, you’ll know that you are accomplishing something grand.

Bridget Barry is currently a Program Associate with Limitless Horizons Ixil in Chajul, Guatemala. To read more about Bridget’s time abroad with limited economic means, check out her past entries or posts by other La Vida Idealist bloggers in Guatemala. For more on the financial challenges idealists face after coming home, check out Patrick Furlong’s “Dueling Realities” and Kimberly Friedland’s “The Well-Planned Life or Summoned Self?“

However, despite my childlike wonder at the forgotten conveniences of the developed world, nostalgia for Peru has already started to sink in.

As I think back on the year and my memories begin to sweeten and solidify into easily rehashed anecdotes, I have a few pieces of advice for fellow travelers and expats-to-be. As Baz Luhrmann says in the graduation speech Wear Sunscreen, “Advice is a form of nostalgia,” and indeed, these suggestions all stem from my sweetest memories abroad.

#1. See the tourist attractions, but realize that these will not be your most culturally enriching experiences. Though you may gain interesting knowledge from a tour guide at historical ruins, you will learn ten times more from the lady in braids and a top hat who sells eggs on the street. Talk to all the locals you can.

#2. Eat with abandon. You will get sick and there’s no avoiding it, so sample every street food that tempts you and drink the fresh-squeezed market juices. If you have plans to take an overnight bus, either disregard this rule or make sure you’re armed with plenty of Immodium.

#3. Travel alone for a period of time. It is empowering to make and carry out your own plans, and it will open the doors to meet interesting people from the world over. Allow for flexibility in your itinerary. You may just want to change your plans and travel with your new friends.

#4. Within reason, do the things that scare you. That terrifying bus ride down the narrow road with a reckless driver will make for a good story later on.

#5. Most importantly, don’t forget the lessons you have learned. In Cusco, I was constantly reminded of my privilege. I had a house with 24-hour electricity and hot water, and a daily change of clean clothes. Many people didn’t. Here at home, it’s easy to forget that most people in the world live on much less than we do. Remember this.

My year in Peru only served to fuel my wanderlust, so I have no doubt that I’ll be abroad again to live and explore. Until then, ¡Adios!

Kimberly just recently finished a volunteer stint as Program Manager for GirlSportWorks, a US-based NGO in Cusco that seeks to enhance the lives of Peruvian girls through athletics.

He was a happy, 19-year-old boy with Down syndrome when I started working with him as a personal care attendant. During my sophomore year of college, I spent one or two evenings a week with him until a few months after I graduated. I also had the opportunity to help out at his Sunday School class that his mom lead, a class  full of students with any type of disability that existed within the church.

My interest in the disabled increased as my friendship with Colin and his family grew closer. I decided to join him, as a volunteer, at a week long summer camp he attended each year called Joni and Friends. I hopped in the car and made my way to Indiana about a month after I graduated. I was assigned to work with another boy with Down syndrome named Dan, who was also a happy-go-lucky kid around the same age as Colin. Because of the wide range of severity and accompanying complications within the same diagnosis, in this case Down syndrome,  it was a very good learning experience to work closely with another kid like Colin. They were very different. Colin was more reserved and used to love just sitting alone, trying to make me laugh by making funny noises. (Trust me, this could occupy his entire day if you let it.) While Colin wouldn’t touch water with a ten foot pole, Dan had the time of his life tubing behind a boat at summer camp.

As I work with the younger kids at Anakena here in Chile, I am continually reminded of the infinite levels of independence and unique personal characteristics possessed by children with the “same” disability. I had to ask my tia why Leonardo was in our class because for all that I could tell after working with him for a week, he appeared “normal.”  He helps with the other children and always knows the answers in class.  She responded by saying that he has a low level learning deficit and is probably the highest functioning child in the class. I hope for his sake, that being in that position doesn’t hinder his learning process. Then there is Alejandro, who’s autism is evident upon first glance. He experiences its effects both mentally and physically. He is a challenge, to say the least, because he’s in the stage of life where he must question authority at any given opportunity. And if you have spent any time with kids, you know that disobedience is contagious among a group of curious children. Disciplining children with disabilities opens up Pandora’s box of life lessons. The biggest one? Patience, patience, patience.

There are two children in the class with Down syndrome, Javiera and Felippe. They are both incredibly adorable and extremely stubborn in their own way. It is really interesting to work with them and think about what Colin and Dan might have been like at their age.

I have been disappointed with the education provided by Anakena when I am wearing my red, white and blue lenses. However, the school is quite impressive when you consider that “discapacidades en Santiago, Chile” brings up less than ten relevant results in Google, which is nothing for a city of five million. I’m not exactly sure what kind of resources exist for the disabled in schools and programs here in Chile, but I know it is little to none.  I have only seen one computer at Anakena, in the director’s office. The tias hand write all the assignments for each of the kids because there are no printers, copiers, projectors, or smart boards. They re-use all plastic “disposable” cutlery and paper plates each day for snack time. There is no heat and no hot water.

Yet, without all these things they manage to make education happen day in and day out. They make it happen out of necessity, but surely they would appreciate some of the luxuries we call “necessities” in the states. If you are interested in changing the lives of some teachers at Anakena or other schools in Chile, please contact VE Global to see how you can help.

Lindsey Chapman is a volunteer with VE Global, at Colegio Anakena. Check out posts by Andrew Garberson for more on working with the disabled.

Aerial view of Montevideo

1. Pay bills and credit card(s). While you’re at it, call credit/debit card companies to let them know you’ll be traveling so they don’t suspend your card. Feeding two people on five dollars in Budapest for the day was no fun.
2. Figure out how you’ll get money wherever you’re going. I always went the ATM in-country route, wary of rapacious rates from currency exchange places and nervous of carrying too much cash. (But in Uruguay, the casas de cambio give a better rate than the banks.) I’ve also found myself in places where ATMs didn’t accept international cards and it was a bank holiday; where the lone ATM didn’t accept Mastercard (Visa advertising slogan for the win, at least on a remote Pacific island); and where drivers didn’t accept cash older than the year 2000. So bring some small dollar or euro bills as back-up.
3. Write everything down. Maybe I’ll have internet, maybe I won’t. Maybe whipping out a guidebook won’t attract unwanted attention – or maybe it will. I always carry a little notebook with hand-drawn maps, flight numbers, phone numbers, postcard addresses – anything I can anticipate needing ahead of time. It’s more portable, subtler, and a great resource for re-creating my trip come photo-labeling time.
4. Figure out power adapters ahead of time. Most small electronics work within 110-240 volts these days, but double-check! It also never hurts to bring a few extra adapters in case of unexpected detours, but if I dare say so, give up anything that requires a converter because they are heavy.  So that may mean leaving the hairdryer at home.
5. Purchase traveler’s health insurance. You never know.
6. Print out boarding passes, and keep them accessible. It’s one of those things that’s easy to write off. Until I arrived at an airport, at 3 a.m., where the security officers were conducting an X-ray scan and boarding pass check – before the check-in counters. “What would you do if the computers were down?” the guard admonished me as I scrabbled around for the print-out. If the computers went down the airline would have probably had bigger problems…but don’t argue with guards with side arms.
7. Do a last minute look. Luggage lock? Check. Travel sized toiletries refilled? Check. Laundry done? Check. Passport located at least two days prior to departure? (You laugh, but the number of frantic last minute calls I used to get from volunteers….) Check.

But in the end, once I overslept and found myself en route to the airport with a passport but no driver’s license, an iPod but no headphones, and a credit card but no cash. Granted, I was flying home and the situation was pretty minor, but a good reminder that the most important thing to remember is yourself.

Flora Lindsay-Herrera is currently a Fulbright Fellow in Montevideo, Uruguay. For more about her experiences, check out her blog. For more on departures, read “Runway Mix: This Time Tomorrow,” “Thoughts for the Outbound Voyager,” and “When are you coming back?”

After having lived in this community over a year now, I am feeling comfortable.  I am learning the pace of this culture and the ins and outs of working in it.  And it is nothing beyond easy.  And so when I found myself filled to the brim with frustration in front of the board of directors, I learned a big lesson.

Long-term international development work is a unique experience.  It’s quite different than just moving to a new city in your own culture to start a job.  Not only do you know no one, but you also don’t know the culture and how they work.  Can they work as a team?  Can they not?  Are they efficient?  Are they organized?  You learn all that by trial and error.  As I have found out, there are many important lessons to learn when beginning to work in another culture.

First, the biggest lesson I have learned, is to not to get too stressed about anything.  Coming from a fast paced culture, we are used to deadlines and efficiency.  Upon my first few times of experiencing extreme inefficiency in my community work here in Costa Rica, I saw that no one else but ME was worried or stressed about it.  I quickly let that go.   It’s just a cultural difference.

Second, know that the pace of life is different.  Life moves slower in Latin America.  In Costa Rica, the official country slogan is pura vida, or pure life, which basically means everything is all right and no worries abound.  Life is slow, simple, lovely, worry-free.  Another one of those cultural differences.

Third and finally, as in any culture, communication is key!  Lack of communication will contribute to frustration and to being what the Costa Ricans call “brava” or bossy/fiery/snappy, oftentimes in inappropriate situations (like in front of a board of directors)!  Also, remember, what may seem as a lack of communication to us, could also just be chalked up to another one of those cultural differences.

But don’t get me wrong, I know that working in another culture can also be extremely rewarding.  It’s these important lessons we learn through cultural differences that make us more well-rounded people, ready to face any challenge that comes our way, in our own culture or in another.

Rebecca Stumpf is currently a Peace Corps volunteer in Copey de Dota, Costa Rica. To read more about her experiences and see more of her photography, check out her website and photography blog. For some delicious recipes, check out her food blog.

I could be alone on this, but watching the counterfeit vendors quickly roll up their merchandise and flee in the face of the law is something I find impressive. They are adept at rolling up shop, without damaging merchandise, and swiftly moving on to a safer vending point. There is a loosely enforced law in Costa Rica against the sale of counterfeit products such as DVDs, name brand clothing and CDs. The law, however, doesn’t prevent a number of locals from earning a living, their clients being locals as well as tourists.

Street in San Jose

Apart from all the mayhem which I find to be appealing, the nature of my living situation in San Jose is simply more exciting than at home in Canada. Every day has the potential for adventure, at work I am always being introduced to new people, there is never a dull moment at the house I share with other international students/teachers/volunteers, and the T.V. is never on. There is something about living in a foreign place that inspires me to take part in activities I would never be involved in at home. Salsa classes, going to protests, exploring museums and traveling to various cities are all activities readily available at home, but, for some reason, I rarely take part.

I think it has to do with the anonymity factor. In a new country, you step outside of your comfort zone. You no longer have lifelong friends and family to say, ¨That’s not something you would do.¨ Your only reference point is yourself. And so any excuse to not sign up for new adventures disappears. When you become too comfortable, a change in scenery is healthy. That’s why I’m excited to be heading back to Central America for the next six months.

Sebastian Kindsvater will be returning shortly to Costa Rica, where he is the Kiva Coordinator/Loan Officer for Fundación Mujer. For more on making the most of where you’re at, check out Andrew Garberson’s “Location, Location, Location.“

This problem has been a problem of what I like to call school wreckers (in reference to individuals that have attempted to break up our schools) or team wreckers (in reference to those who have attempted to break up our soccer team). Once these attacks have been overcome, we can be flattered by them and realize that we must have a good thing going on if people want to steal it. But more than feeling flattered, I feel protective and angry at those who have meddled uninvited and attempted to create division.

Learning the Hokey Pokey in Padre Granero, 2010

To them I say: Get a life. There is enough need to go around. Rather than attempting to overtake one of our programs, go to an underserved area. But perhaps these school wreckers and team wreckers lack the skills and dedication it takes to begin a program to begin with, which is why they are trying to steal ours. Well, not on my watch!

I’ll explain one of these attacks to give an example of the type of thing I’m referring to. Regretfully, division recently occurred in a school we have supported since 2007. We included the school into our grassroots schools program after the two co-founders continuously solicited aid from us. Since then, we have paid teachers’ salaries, provided organizational support such as teachers’ handbooks, paid rent on some facilities, and provided other materials such as chalkboards, chalk, etc. These two co-founders grew into the roles of morning school director and afternoon school director.

At the beginning of 2010, it was brought to my attention that the morning school director had been soliciting aid from tourists and different foreign visitors in the area and had gained a supporter. After coming in contact with this supporter, I learned that the morning director had led this man to believe that the school was unfunded, teachers were working voluntarily, etc. He had recently begun sending funds to the morning director to provide food for students (something we had always hoped to do but always lacked funds) and also to pay teachers. Food was provided for students but when asked about the teacher salary money, the morning director had no answer.

This situation caused division in the school. I stayed in contact with this supporter, letting him know that I had hoped he would become a Project Esperanza supporter, which would’ve been the way to do things in the first place. I also would update him on the behavior of the morning director, which had gotten very destructive and out of control. He began locking classrooms with locks only he had the key to, inhibiting afternoon teachers and students from entering to hold class. He took chairs out of classrooms and stored them elsewhere and spoke very nastily to both me and the afternoon director, co-founder, and ex-good friend. On the last day of school, he actually boarded up the entrance of the building to try to inhibit the afternoon school from entering and taking their final exams. Staff removed the boards and administered the exams, only to have the morning director show up and order students to leave halfway through.

I assumed that the supporter would see this destruction and no longer support this individual. Five of the seven teachers/directors and I have stuck together, preparing to open the school in a separate location on September 6th. Those missing from the group are the morning director and his girlfriend who, in our last staff meeting where everything was addressed, appeared to be in support of the morning director, her boyfriend, and was lying for him. Therefore, we did not invite her to move on with us.

Muñoz, 2008

We were thrown for a bit of a loop when the supporter visited in July and decided to pay the rent for a year on the building we had abandoned to avoid conflict and to continue supporting the morning director. He led me on until the last minute, leading me to believe he was interested in becoming a Project Esperanza supporter. It would’ve made more sense being that we are a registered non-profit in the U.S. and Dominican Republic, rather than channeling funds to an individual who has proven nothing but his selfish ambition over the past year. However, this decision revealed something about the supporter and his values as well.

Leading up to his decision, I repeated each time I spoke to him that our first priority should be to avoid division and the separation into two schools. That would be ridiculous and unnecessary. On several occasions I offered to put him in contact with other churches or individuals in Puerto Plata who had begun or were attempting to begin similar schools in their communities to serve Haitian immigrant kids who were not in school otherwise. He was not interested in this. We are not interested in abandoning the children and parents we have formed relationships with over the past four years in this community where the school is. So we find ourselves in a battle.

After weeks of registering kids and talking to parents, it seems as though the majority have registered with us. Some parents decided to send two kids to one school and two kids to the other to keep the peace. I feel ridiculous to be engaged in such a competition where two groups fight over one marginalized neighborhood rather than separating to cover more underserved ground. But I think the community understands that Project Esperanza’s presence is a protective one and not an exploitative one. Those who do not understand that yet will hopefully come to understand.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

As I write this post, it’s 2:19p.m. in Portland, Oregon. Over the last 24 hours I’ve played Bananagrams, eaten bulgogi, walked through a rose garden, read a few pages from a novel, wrote a paragraph in my short story, and was introduced to zumba. But what about the rest of the world? What did my friends in Buenos Aires do? Or the Guyanese host family I used to live with when I first started the Peace Corps? On 10/10/10, thanks to One Day on Earth, I’ll be able to find out.

One Day on Earth is asking you, me, and the rest of the world to film something you’re inspired by on that day, with the hope of creating a time capsule that documents our collective struggles and triumphs. You don’t have to be a seasoned filmmaker to participate—cell phones and digital cameras work just as well—and everything is fair game. The collected footage will then be archived in a database for anyone to access at anytime, with select footage to be used in a feature documentary.

If you’re passionate about social change, One Day on Earth might just be the platform for you. One goal of One Day on Earth is to highlight stories that can have a potential impact. For individuals, it’s a great way to raise awareness about issues you care about and provide nonprofits with media they can use in the future. For organizations, it’s a great way to gain support, promote your mission, benefit from media creation, and of course, showcase all the amazing work already being done. Rally for Iraq, for example, will be filming challenges faced by Iraqi students. The Red Cross, on the other hand, will be reaching out to their community in a call to action called My Day, My Impact.

Sure, coordinated international movements aren’t a new thing. (Think everything from Pangea Day to simultaneous dancing of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” to 350.org’s Global Work Party.) But while One Day on Earth is still very grassroots right now, its scope is wide and its heart big. “We are creating a unique collaborative global venue and community dedicated to gaining a better understanding of humanity,” says director Kyle Reddick. It’s citizen journalism on a truly worldwide scale—and it’s it’s no surprise that almost 3,000 participants from over 150 countries are already on board. There are also more than 200 schools around the globe whose students will have a lens in hand.

As for me, I’ll be in New York on October 10, having friends film my wedding. What about you? Which story will you tell?

If you know any individuals and/or nonprofits in Latin America that might want to participate, please help spread the word.