Some Día de la Mujer gifts I received from my students. Candy just for existing? Sure, I'll take it.

Thursday, March 8^th, was International Women’s Day, a holiday celebrated both officially and unofficially in countries across the globe – although, oddly enough, I’ve noticed that it doesn’t seem to be particularly popular in the United States. Here in Colombia, it’s celebrated as a sort of combination of Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day, with women receiving presents, flowers, candy, cards and constant wishes for a “Feliz día” (happy day).

I wrote about my personal feelings and impressions of Día de la Mujer on my own blog, so here I’m going to focus instead on some of the reflections it inspired on the state of women and women’s rights here in Colombia. Latin America, like basically every other region of the world, doesn’t necessarily have the best record on women’s rights. The combination of strict Catholicism in many places, machista culture and a strong adherence to traditional gender roles, particularly in rural areas, has created an environment that, until very recently, allowed limited options for women.

I’m not saying that all women in Colombia are housewives or cooks – and many of the ones that are do so by choice, rather than a lack thereof. There’s definitely a lot of space in Colombian culture for successful women, and despite the historic basis of machista culture (which is still alive and well, don’t worry), there does seem to be a healthy amount of respect for and appreciation of strong, accomplished women here. For example: When the former mayor of Bogotá was suspended in 2011, the president of Colombia chose a Harvard-educated female economist to serve as acting mayor until the end of the term. There are women serving in high levels of the government, powerful female lawyers and many female leaders of NGOs. As of last year, 13% of people in governing bodies were female – not anywhere close to 50%, of course, but sadly a much higher percentage than in many other nations.

However, this doesn’t mean everything is just peachy. The 2011 Global Gender Gap Report, which measures gender inequality in areas like salaries, work opportunities, education, health and other factors, ranked Colombia 80^th out of 135 countries – a significant change from its 2010 position in 55^th place, and the single biggest drop in Latin America. According to the report, this was based mostly on a huge decrease in women’s earned income, especially compared to men. A recent report by an investigative unit of the National Police found that, on average, a woman is assaulted every 38 minutes in Bogotá – and that barely 42% of women report cases of abuse to the authorities.

Whenever you hear anyone extolling the myriad virtues of Colombia, the beauty of Colombian women is always extremely high on the list (especially if the speaker is a straight dude). Far be it from me to dispute the accuracy of this description – Colombian women overall are seriously gorgeous, enough to make even a nail-biting gringa consider getting a manicure – but I think until the country focuses on promoting the accomplishments of its women, rather than their allure, there’s still a lot of progress to be made.

And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Women and men across the country held marches and demonstrations on Día de la Mujer to advocate for women’s rights and to raise awareness of the need for change. Hundreds of women marching in Medellín chanted “Take your rosaries out of our ovaries,” and a Bogotá-based lawyer told news organization Colombia Reports, “It is not the day of the woman, it is the day of women’s human rights.” The president of Colombia recently signed an agreement pledging to create publicity and awareness campaigns across the country to advance women’s rights – as with most political actions, it remains to be seen how successful this program will be.

It’s inspiring to see how people and organizations in Colombia are using March 8^th as a platform to advance women’s rights campaigns, but it’s important to remember that one day is not enough. As a female traveler, I want to live in a world where I can feel just as safe as a man, no matter where I go – my physical and mental safety should not be affected by my gender. Even more so, I would love to someday feel that, no matter where I traveled, I could meet women who have had the same educational and professional opportunities that I’ve had the privilege to pursue. We’re far from perfect in terms of women’s rights in the States (hey, Rush Limbaugh!), but at least I’m legally allowed to drive myself to the grocery store.

So: one day down, 364 to go!

Natalie Southwick volunteers as an English teacher for WorldTeach in Bogotá, Colombia. For more on Natalie’s adventures in Colombia, check out her blog.

The boys from our delegation burning off steam among some eucalyptus trees.

Last week, I was accompanying a delegation of high school boys from Boston, Massachusetts. I don’t have any brothers, so it was a very educational experience for me. Apparently, the life of a high school boy involves a lot of hacky sack, guitar picking, references to adult cartoons, and, if he is from Boston, “wicked sick fraps” (in Ohio, we would say really delicious milkshakes). Really, they were a great group of youth, and it was a gift to see them crash headfirst into Salvadoran history, culture and people.

While the boys were here, they had a packed schedule. They stayed for a couple nights in a rural community in the northeastern, mountainous region of the country, visited many historical sites around San Salvador, and listened to the personal stories of many individual Salvadorans. These stories had to do with everything from a person’s experience as a survivor of one of the many massacres the army perpetrated during the civil war in the eighties to the more recent experience of burying young community leaders, killed by the gangs that have significant control over certain streets. After a week of intense immersion and repeated breakings and healings of hearts, the boys’ last day included meeting with national representatives to the National Assembly from both the FMLN, the leftist party that was formed from the people’s guerilla army in 1992, and ARENA, the rightist party, whose founder allegedly ordered many of the massacres and disappearances of civilians during the civil war. El Salvador is a politically polarized country, to say the least.

One of the representatives, after making disturbing comments about the role of indigenous peoples in Central America and his “forgive and forget” policy towards the massacres and disappearances of civilians that happened not even thirty years ago, made a flippant, offhand comment that grabbed ahold of my internal organs and gave them a good shake. He said, “I don’t believe that El Salvador will ever be a first world country.”

For me, the major offense was not the representative’s lack of political correctness. I was totally put off by the fact that this man, who was elected by his people to represent them, does not think that El Salvador will ever become what he hopes it will be. His job is to fight for the well-being of his constituents and to work to better the country in the way they think most adequate, and he does not believe his goals for the country will be accomplished.

This kind of hopelessness is the exact opposite of the attitude that I see among most Salvadorans about the future of this country.

A forum, organized by youth, with the three candidates for mayor of Cacaopera, a small municipality in rural Morazán.

Elections in El Salvador are on March 11. They aren’t presidential elections, but mayors and representatives to the national assembly -including the men who spoke with our group- are battling it out, and hard. Over the last few weeks, almost every day, I have found myself in the middle of some impassioned argument about national policy, the big changes being made to the electoral process this year, or the candidates up for election. There is hope, creativity, and fire behind these discussions. There is also disillusionment, anger, and sadness at mistakes that have been made or politicians’ hypocritical and corrupt practices, but never, not once, have I heard someone say that El Salvador will never become what she or he hopes it will be.

A few nights ago, as I was heading out for pupusas, the national food, I walked right into the middle of a party rally on my block. It was the party of the representative with whom the group spoke, and the participants were waving flags, wearing t-shirts, and wailing along with the campaign song. They were incensed. They were passionate; they were committed to the goals they have for their country.

I spent my pre-dinner journal time at my corner table drafting how to ask them about their representative’s comment. I wanted to know what regular Salvadorans thought about his attitude. I wanted to hear from his supporters how what he had said would make them feel. I sped through dinner, curtido and salsa a’flying…

They were gone when I walked back outside.

Laurel is a new blogger, currently working as the International Relations and Delegations Coordinator at FUNDAHMER in El Salvador.

On the surface, the public and private schools don’t seem so terribly different. The layouts are similar, the student population is about the same size and the uniforms are exactly the same. But once we began to scratch the surface – to speak with the English teachers and visit a few classrooms – the vast gaps between the two became painfully clear.

Most of the students could barely manage to put together three words in English, much less understand us when we introduced ourselves. Even the majority of the English teachers struggled to hold a conversation in English. Of course, I have no doubt that they’re excellent, committed teachers, and this has more to do with Colombian teacher requirements than any sort of personal shortcoming, but the result is that the students in these schools simply don’t have the opportunity to progress as far in English as the students in my school, who are learning from my excellent, basically fluent co-teachers.

And that isn’t even mentioning the social issues. These schools are in bad neighborhoods – the kind of places that elicit gasps from Bogotanos when I tell them that I visited there. They’re located in the distant southeast of the city, so far up the mountains that visitors can practically catch the clouds in their hands (one neighborhood is actually called Entre Nubes – “between the clouds”). The people in these communities are in the very lowest socio-economic strata of Bogotá – many of them displaced persons who’ve fled from the civil conflict in other parts of the country.

One school has altered its schedule to keep high school students from having to walk home in the afternoon, when there’s too much gang activity in the streets to ensure their safety. In another school, I met Miguel, an amazing kid who spends his Saturdays walking for two hours each way to take a free university-level class in the northern part of Bogotá, because he and his mother don’t have enough money for him to take the bus.

These are not excuses for not doing homework. This is real life.

Now, granted, my school is not without its challenges. There are still classrooms stuffed with 35 students, serious social and family issues and chronic shortages of just about everything. But it’s a different world up there on the mountain, where those kids will be lucky just to graduate from high school in one piece, or at all. Where they don’t have the luxury to think about how bilingualism will qualify them for more jobs. Where just having a job is enough.

I love my school, my students and most of my co-teachers, and after just a month here, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. But it’s difficult and frustrating to think about how much deeper the need goes in other places, how much these other schools could desperately use more support, more resources, more everything.

I think that most of us who choose to work as volunteers do so at least partially as a result of some innate desire to help, a compulsion to do something when we recognize need. I realize that the work I’m doing at my school is important and I can already begin the see the impact it’s having, but there are some days when I can’t help thinking about the other schools, far away to the south, and their students – who, with the exception of geographic factors, are no different from my students – and the perfectionist and idealist in me can’t help but feel like I could be doing so much more.

The truth is, in the world of non-profits and volunteering, we could always be doing so much more. There is always another civil conflict, another unequal education system, another child trafficked across borders. We will always be capable of doing more. While I believe it’s crucial to maintain this perspective and to seek out places where we can be of service, it’s also essential to remember that each of us can only work with the tools and opportunities we have or create for ourselves. None of us can take on all of the world’s challenges alone – but, for the sake of kids like Miguel, we can keep trying.

Natalie Southwick volunteers as an English teacher for WorldTeach in Bogotá, Colombia. For more on Natalie’s adventures in Colombia, check out her blog. And to read more about challenges in Latin American schools, take a look at “Money Matters: An Awkward Request from Students” by Kimberly Friedland, “Small Frustrations and Big White Elephants” by Nereida Heller, or “La Vida: Teaching English in Quito, Ecuador” by Philip Dixon.

San Salvador, the crowded, lively capital, borders Lake Ilopango, seen in the distance.

I’m a leap year junkie; that extra day every fourth February reminds me of so many hopeful, calming truths. It reminds me that every system has an outlier and every rule, an exception, even in something as basic as how we measure time. It reminds me that for all our hubris, we human beings have not yet managed to make the Earth go any faster or any slower around the sun. It reminds me that chinks in the fabric of our most basic assumptions exist – there are enchanted places, secret passageways, and hidden, extra hours. This February 29 will mark my fifth month of waking up in El Salvador, a country whose spirit and people help me find the courage to choose to live in these truths more faithfully every day.

I’m here in the first place by way of one of these magical openings in what we might believe is the drudgery of reality. I studied Theology and Spanish in college and spent my coffee shop salary traveling and studying in Mexico and Nicaragua, so statistically speaking, I should have been in Zucotti Park last fall.

Instead, I am occupying a volunteering/working/living position at an nongovernmental organization called FUNDAHMER, based in San Salvador, accompanying rural communities of faith and delegations from their “sister” communities in the United States, Canada, Italy, and Australia. My commitment is for at least year, but I’m in no hurry to leave, and I’m not into predicting the future these days.

El Salvador is a special place; thrilling oddities like leap years seem to abound here. In a country where malnutrition seems to be the norm for rural children, communities donate corn to the most needy among them after a bad harvest. Among dominating vestiges of colonial religious attitudes, delightfully tacky chapels are tucked into forgotten corners, with photos of beloved Monseñor Romero, where the best and the worst singers belt out liberated church songs. For all the shame and wounds carried by Salvadoran women, every once in awhile, you can find a circle of mothers, howling with laughter over a gift of modest cotton underwear. This is a place of cracks in the cement, of new life growing from ashes, and of hope in the struggle.

A particularly intricate variety of orchid grows on the side of the volcano of San Salvador.

I’ve always been a school person, but after with seventeen years of formal education, I have packed my perfectly conjugated irregular preterite verbs into a box under my bed and am working on discerning the tricky double meanings of Salvadoran slang. I’m reading faces, not peer-reviewed articles, and my favorite teacher is my forty-year-old boss, whose heart pumps instant coffee and irrational compassion through his veins. Constantly mediating between different cultures, different people, and different ideas about how the world works, I am learning how to be patient, how to be hopeful, and how to find and celebrate the unexpected.

This is Laurel’s first post on La Vida Idealist. Laurel is currently working a as the International Relations and Delegations Coordinator at FUNDAHMER in El Salvador.

A wonderful volunteer who was here for a few months helping out with our art shop recently left. The week before she left, she brought in a little sick puppy that followed her home. He was sick due to not eating well and also because of a skin sickness. She took him to the vet and invested in food and medication for him. She talked to me beforehand to see if there could be a permanent home for him. I talked to the two new boys and asked if they would want to take on that responsibility. They have few belongings and lack things that they have control and ownership over in their life which can be a source of frustration. So I thought that having ownership and responsibility over this puppy would be good for them. Other benefits of the endeavor are the opportunity to watch it grow and to learn about administering medications, etc.

Laura Vladimirova caring for the sick puppy she found.

So the morning that Laura, the volunteer, left, we brought the puppy here. One of the boys, Enelbi, was extra excited. He found wood scraps and built a little shelter. We tied the puppy in a corner of the yard, far from anything else in the yard – a spot for men who have a business to butcher and cook pigs to sell the meat from, chickens and a chicken coup, a cistern, the staircase to a neighboring apartment, etc. He was just in an unused corner shaded with banana trees.

Our landlord started complaining about him immediately, saying the puppy would cause his dog to become sick, etc. I argued that this tiny puppy was not bothering anyone and his dog would not cuddle up to it. After not much arguing he agreed but said that it should stay tied up in the corner. We obeyed. One time the puppy got loose because Enelbi tied him up poorly, but he put him back and that was the only incident. The puppy is quite tiny. It is not the least bit threatening except that it has the skin problem but I reminded the landlord that that would soon change as the dog was being properly medicated.

A week went by and Enelbi continued to do a great job feeding, medicating, and caring for the puppy. Then one morning he went out to give him his medicine and the puppy could not be found anywhere. He searched everywhere and could not find him or his leash. The large yard is enclosed and it is pretty safe to say that the puppy did not escape and run away. Enelbi came and reported this and also let me know that the landlord had been encouraging him to throw the puppy out the day before, saying that it was sick and hopeless. Everyone agreed that this was not the case and that the puppy was quickly and visibly improving. I had no doubt that the landlord had thrown the puppy out that morning as he wakes up earlier than everyone else and often reports the state of the yard and such at dusk time. “This door did not have its lock on it.” “What was so and so doing around here at 6am in the morning?”

When the landlord came home from work at noon, he greeted me as he normally does. “Catalina!” I noticed that he didn’t make eye contact. I asked him why he threw out the little dog. He denied, of course, and said that the dog was loose the night before. He told me to ask Felix and turned to Felix, the man who runs the pig butchering, meat selling business. Felix did not look up and replied that a few days ago, (the lone incident I mentioned), the dog was lose but he didn’t know about last night. The landlord didn’t let him finish talking and just continued stating that the dog was loose last night and asked why he would throw it out. I just stared him down unhappily and let him go on his way. He had already proven himself untrustworthy because with our electricity being on the same meter, we split the electricity bill. He used to show me the bill, then after a few months just reported the amount to me and I trusted him for those few months. The lights had gone way up when he last showed me the bill and so the numbers he told me were high. Then after three months of this I found a bill and discovered that he had been grossly lying. I confronted him with it and he had his sneaky explanations of having to paying someone to connect and disconnect the lights each morning so he was including that fee. Whatever. He let me take some of that money out of the next month’s pay and now I always look at the receipt.

So we continue to long for the day we can buy a piece of property, not that that will eliminate harassment from neighbors. Immigration Control recently went into a community where we have a school called Padre Granero. They went in at 4am and rounded up a few bus loads of Haitians. They took some students in our school, some parents of students in our school, one boy who had been in our group home for a number of years, my husband’s cousin, and other acquaintances. They took them straight to Haiti and dropped them off across the border. What upsets me about that most is that they separate parents and children. Many people have already made it back so it’s not that organized or permanent of an effort on Immigration control’s part, but that is how many things go here. As long as guards remain corrupt, there will never be control at the border. I have never heard of a guard who refused a bribe to let someone pass.

I am finishing with this explanation of the immigration climate here to show that in a case of such abuse where a grown man throws out a 12 year old boy’s puppy, there is really nothing you can do. We have faced similar abuses previously and even taken some situations to court. In the incident that we did take to court, the judge ruled in our favor. In this case, the landlord had kicked a group out of the home we had been running for one year. The judge ruled that this was illegal and the boys should return to live in the home for two more months until the deposit ran out. However, a judge’s ruling and enforcing it are two very separate things. In this case, there was no law enforcement. The landlord who had kicked them out had two police officer brothers who came and forced the boys in a truck at midnight and made them sleep in jail. In reference to Enebli who was caring for the puppy, he is Haitian but was born in the Dominican Republic. His mother is dead and he does not know his father. So anyone can see that he should have Dominican citizenship and it is absolutely cruel to threaten to send someone like him to Haiti. However, when landlords and neighbors want to, this is what they threaten. I have to say that I slightly understand the fear and annoyance that Dominicans often have of Haitians because Haitians can do crazy and violent and admittedly disturbing things at times and they can create quite a group and sometimes be uncooperative when spoken to, but at the same time, I think there are better ways to deal with things. (They, as a nationality, have many, and I think more, beautiful qualities as well and I don’t mean to focus on the negative.) I have lived and worked with Haitians for five years now and don’t deal with people in the same way, obviously. But I do understand that landlords and others may feel threatened by Haitian immigrants at times, heightened by misunderstandings and false assumptions due to the fact that Haitians often speak Haitian Creole amongst each other and most Dominicans do not understand.

Breaking news! As I have been writing this blog post, Enelbi popped in and told me that a neighbor told him that he knows where the puppy is but not to let anyone know that he showed. He was asking 100 pesos (a little under $3 reward). I agreed and he took off. He just came to the front door with the puppy and the neighbor. They explained that the puppy was tied up in a location a good distance away. So this story has a happy ending so far! Mesi Bondye!

Caitlin is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.

When making my decision to live and teach abroad three years ago, a major concern for me was language. How will I communicate? How will I get what I need? Will the locals understand me? How will I make friends?

Learning the spoken language is obviously one of the most essential steps in getting to know a place and a culture. Spanish greatly influenced my decision to work in Latin America. As an international teacher, I could be earning 2-3 times as much in Asia than what I make here in Ecuador, and with a lower cost of living. But the language and the culture appeal to me. And Spanish seemed more accessible, and “easier” to learn.

Before moving to Ecuador, I was living and working in Denver, Colorado, so Spanish was all around me. According to friends and several guidebooks, Ecuador was supposedly an ideal place to learn Spanish, as their dialect is clearer and slower than, say, the Spanish in Colombia or Argentina. And after my experience studying Spanish in Cuenca and living here for a few years, I can definitively say, with self-admitted cultural relativism, that Ecuador is a great place to learn Spanish. But what about the non-verbal cues that we send during a conversation?

According to William Cruz’s “Differences in Nonverbal Communication Styles between Cultures: The Latino-Anglo Perspective,” (recommended reading, by the way) two-thirds of the meaning conveyed in all social encounters is non-verbal. Cruz writes for an academic journal, Leadership and Management in Engineering, but his tips could be equally valuable for the traveler/ visitor/ new resident of Latin America.

So, I would like to mention a few of the essential non-verbal cues that foreign travelers and residents should be aware of here in Ecuador: greetings,the smile, personal space issues, and direct eye contact. As a disclaimer, these practices vary greatly within Ecuador and the region, so these are generalizations that may or may not apply to your location.

1. Greetings are one of the most obvious points of departure between Latin and Anglo culture. Women and men and women and women touch right cheek to right cheek and make the kissing noise when greeting each other. This is common in most of Latin America. When entering a room, it is considered rude not to greet everyone in the room in this way. And the handshake is of course customary between men and men. But it is not the firm handshake that you may be accustomed to in the states; a lighter, softer handshake is considered more polite. If you go in with a firm squeeze it could be considered offensive. Greetings fall under kinesics, or the “study of body movements and facial expressions as a systematic part of communication” (Cruz 52).
2. The smile also falls under kinesics. In Ecuador, the smile is used frequently (especially on the coast) in personal, business and school situations. Anglos tend to smile less and are therefore perceived as “cold” or unfriendly. But the smile has been a double-edged sword for me. I tend to smile and laugh frequently. And as a teacher, this has backfired on me before by giving the impression that I am less formal and lack authority compared to other teachers.
3. Personal space, or “proxemics” is also a common point of difference between Latin and Anglo cultures. Because Ecuadorians have a smaller “personal bubble” than most visitors from the US, it can be considered rude to step away from a person while talking. Ecuadorians are “close talkers” for sure, so be ready to have your space invaded! Even just waiting in a line at the supermarket or bank, be ready for less space between you and those around you. In the classroom, I have learned that Quiteños don’t have this phobia of touching that we have in the states. In Colorado, I would think twice about even giving a pat on the back to my students. But here in Quito, I can’t imagine a class period that I don’t greet my male students with a handshake, and use an occasional touch to congratulate or calm a student.
4. Finally, oculesics, the study of the use of eyes in personal communication, regularly comes into play. According to Cruz, in Latin culture, “prolonged direct eye contact means you are challenging the person, that you are angry, or that you have a romantic interest in the person.” (53). This has been confirmed by my unfailing focus group of Quiteños students and by my experience here. It’s no wonder that in class, when I use eye contact to engage a student or try to get his/her attention, the student occasionally thinks I am angry and is reluctant to respond.

So fellow bloggers and idealists, are these behaviors similar or different in your current location? I know I only mentioned a few tips, so please add to the list!

¡Saludos desde Guatemala!

Quetzaltrekkers (QT) leads treks through some of the most culturally, historically, and geographically interesting places in Guatemala. Whether clients want to summit the tallest volcano in Central America (Tajumulco! Amazing hike!), ascend steep rock walls overlooking Xela, or spend six days traversing the Maya villages between Nebaj and Todos Santos, QT offers treks for all skill levels and provides all gear at no additional cost. Plus, 100% of the treks’ profits benefit the Escuela de la Calle (EDELAC), a school for disadvantaged and abused children in Xela, as well as the Hogar Abierto, a dormitory for children lacking safe homes.

To be honest, I have sustained a crush on Quetzaltrekkers since I first learned about the organization last year during my time with Manna Project International. Hiking for a good cause? Count me in. Also, I love the simplicity of the idea behind QT’s creation. With 33 volcanoes and a vibrant Maya culture that dates back centuries, Guatemala is a hotspot for both outdoor and anthropology enthusiasts. Why not use these markets for charity?

However, as I have learned, no matter the practicality of an idea, social change is anything but simple. In fact, “community development” may be one of the most difficult concepts to define. What is community development? How is it attained? What does a “developed” community actually look like? My MPI experience has biased me to view holistic approaches as the only avenue to achieve community development. During the upcoming months, I look forward to challenging and expanding these perceptions of community development, as I volunteer primarily with the fundraising branch of this youth-focused organization.

Ginny just finished a thirteen-month commitment as Program Director with Manna Project International-Guatemala and is returning to Guatemala to work with Quetzaltrekkers. To hear more about Quetzaltrekkers or working as a volunteer hiking guide in Central America, check out “Quetzaltrekkers: Into the Clouds,” parts 1, 2, and 3 by Samantha Camarra or “New to Nica” by Alexa Williams. For more on Ginny’s experiences in Guatemala, check out her blog.

It looks like this at some point pretty much every day in Bogotá

“So, I’m actually moving to Colombia to teach English for a year.”

“Congratulations! That’s so exciting! You’re going to love New York!”

I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had some variation on this conversation during the last few months of 2011. Needless to say, the reaction changed once I explained that my destination had a different vowel, different language and a bit of a different reputation.

But here I am, a few months later, about 2500 miles south of Columbia-with-a-u, in beautiful, polluted, bike-friendly, congested, diverse, sprawling Bogotá, Colombia. I’m currently six weeks into my 11-month commitment with WorldTeach, a U.S.-based organization that sends volunteer English teachers all over the world.

I work at Colsubsidio CEIC Norte, a small-ish school in the northern part of Bogotá, where I’m expected to magically teach English to a population of almost 850 students. I have yet to explain to my supervisors that my magical skills end with my ability to accidentally jinx my favorite sports teams, but in the meantime I’ve been busy falling in love with the city, the food and, most of all, my students (in a totally platonic way! Calm down, FBI representatives).

Almost without fail, every Colombian I’ve met has asked me, “Why Colombia?” People here are acutely conscious of the image many foreigners have of their country – an outdated image, sure, but a stubbornly persistent one. Why, they want to know, would Americans willingly choose to leave their homes and friends and family to move to a country that many people associate with drug cartels and violence?

It’s hard to explain just what drew me to Colombia, rather than the other Spanish-speaking countries with WorldTeach programs. For now, I’m sticking with some combination of “I love the accent” (true), “I heard it was beautiful” (also true) and, if I’m feeling particularly honest, “I wanted to travel somewhere different.” Translation: I didn’t want to be just another face in a crowd of gringos.

Though Colombia is slowly sneaking up on the tourist radar, I’m still the first American many people here have met. And while sometimes that makes me feel like an unofficial ambassador (who’s expected to answer questions like, “Can you describe the American educational system?”), I’m kind of okay with it.

And for the record: New York pizza may be famous, but Bogotá pizza isn’t half bad. And it’s definitely more affordable.

This is Natalie’s first post on La Vida Idealist. Natalie just began work as a Volunteer English teacher with WorldTeach in Bogotá, Colombia. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog!

Our aim here at G22 is to teach the people of Guatemala and hopefully the world about the importance of responsible, sustainable living that helps to conserve our natural environment. Ultimately, G22 believes that environmental education starts at home and should be taught using real solutions applied in both rural and urban settings.

Photo courtesy of Bonnie NortonHere at G22, we're on the prowl for funding.

G22 just completed its application for the Echoing Green Fellowship which provides seed money for individuals and organizations that have big, bold ideas for social change. The 2012 Echoing Green application cycle opened in December 2011 and will end in June 2012 when the finalists are announced. Applicants must go through a three- stage process including interviews in New York. Typically 20 to 25 organizations are selected each year to receive an $80,000 stipend over two years for program and organizational development.

The thrill and rush I experienced while discussing, writing, and imagining the ideas that we have at G22 really got me thinking about the future and the endless possibilities. This quote from Confucius really speaks to the process at G22: “If you think in terms of a year, plant a seed; if in terms of ten years, plant trees; if in terms of 100 year, teach the people.”

Currently, we are in the seedling stage (beginning stages) of our growth process. We are piloting programs designed to find the 22% of students, entrepreneurs and workers that have the attitude to incorporate environmental awareness, thereby helping us to reach the other 78%. For example, we are working with several local schools to develop projects that reach the 22% of the student population. The idea is to test these ideas and projects on a small scale, in order, to expand the G22 program in schools throughout the country. We here at G22 feel very optimistic about the process thus far!

We have garnered media attention including TV appearances and radio spotlights, so we know that we have what it takes to reach the masses! For now, we are letting things develop organically. Instead of searching out specific grants, we are thinking of creative ways we can generate money and interest that goes beyond the norm. Of course it wouldn’t hurt if a little seed money came our way, to help jumpstart our efforts. Either way, we will continue to push ahead by planting our seeds, watching our trees grow, and teaching the people how to live in harmony with nature!

Mindi Batson is currenting living in Guatemala City, Guatemala and working for G22 as Co-founder and Green Connect Program Developer, as well as an independent English teacher, psychologist, and yoga teacher.

Make sure to go see the towering volcanoes above Ibarra

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

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


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

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