How NGOs should deal with this is always a matter of debate: it is a local custom (and therefore expected) but couldn’t money be spent on something that is going to last for more than a couple of hours?

Fun and games at a Chocolatada

I work for Latin American Foundation for the Future (LAFF) who partner with groups like children’s homes and projects directed at youth – we could choose to spend funds on chocolatadas at each of our partner projects, but then where would the money come from to fund school supplies, uniforms and other items to further the children’s development?

We have decided not to go down this path.  We have also found that there are organisations who are keen to fund Christmas parties (quite often, frustratingly for me, as their only activity in the whole year) so these kids don’t actually miss out, and even without LAFF participating, can easily have more than one such party.

When I first arrived here, I was surprised by the amount of money that can be spent on these things.  Don’t get me wrong – I love Christmas. I am no Scrooge. And I am definitely in support of children enjoying Christmas.  But surely having five afternoons of hot chocolate and panetón, over just one party along with something more fundamental which will give them opportunity in life (education, clean water, healthcare, nutritious food etc) is a bit skewed.  In fact, the number of organisations and companies clawing to provide chocolatadas does seem to have lead to a rather cynical attitude from some receiving parties: the other day I was visiting a children’s home and the director commented to me that there was ‘some group coming in to do a chocolatada, she didn’t even know where from’, that afternoon.

This isn’t to say that all chocolatadas are wrong by any means, but I do think they should be kept to scale and should be deeper than just a one-off activity.  An example of a great use of the chocolatada tradition can be seen in this video by Ollantaytambo-based Awamaki to attract people to their mobile health clinics.

Fran Talavera is currently the International Projects Manager with Latin American Foundation for the Future. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

Finding out you are pregnant in another country can be difficult on many levels. Although the news is very exciting, getting the word out poses serious difficulty when Internet and Internet-based phones don’t always work the way we’d like them to. Then there is time-zone differences and soon-to-be-grandparents who cannot wait to spill the beans to other family members.

Photo via Flickr user gabi_menashe (Creative Commons)

We have somewhat prepared our parents with the thought that we’d one day have a child in Mexico, and despite their initial opposition, they are coming around to the idea — and getting their passports in order for a visit.

But it’s trying to get the word out in a personal way that is most difficult. Facebook seems the easiest method, but also the most impersonal. We have a Magic Jack phone, but when we have a coffee shop full of web-surfers, it’s difficult to hear the person on the other end. So we’ve sent lots of emails and “personal” Facebook messages. In addition, we have two worlds to tell: those back in our home country and those here in our new country.

And now we find ourselves asking around: how does this work in Mexico? What’s the best option for foreigners? We have been told that hospitals here don’t allow family members in the room during or even after the pregnancy, but clinics allow you to have whoever you want in the room with you. So a clinic it will be. As we search the coming weeks for the right clinic and the right doctor, maybe the cat will fully be out of the bag, so we can move onto the next-step challenges of all of this excitement.

Gena Thomas is a women’s coop laborer and faith-based coffee shop co-manager with her husband in Mexico. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

Photo by Dana Zichlin of a sixth grade graduation in Chaquijyá Central, Guatemala.

But how do you teach a violent past –in Guatemala’s case, a 36-year-long civil war that ended less than fifteen years ago taking 200,000 (mainly indigenous) lives.  This question is especially controversial, considering Guatemala still struggles with recollecting its past. Following the 1996 Peace Accords the federal government founded the Commission for Historical Clarification, seeking to reconstruct history based on thousands of victims’ firsthand accounts of gross human rights violations — essentially, a record Guatemala’s historical memory. This method is problematic because it relies on a highly subjective construct of history based on selected representations (the partially discredited narration of Nobel-prize winning Rigoberta Menchú comes to mind). While this ‘officializing’ of the violence of the past certainly doesn’t ‘fix’ history, it does open up a space to redress grievances and establish a forum for discussion. Particularly for Guatemala, where in the non-so-distant-past speaking out on human rights could cost a chapin or chapina his or her life, this civic dialogue is a critical first step.  But these efforts are in vain if Guatemala’s checkered history is left out of the school curriculum.

A Guatemalan friend who works in education described this problem to me — well, actually, there are quite a few problems. To start, the school system is on average underfunded, under-attended, and understaffed by poorly-trained teachers, generally conservative in subject matter, and systematically discriminates against the indigenous population of Guatemala. Adding to this mélange of difficulties is the raging debate over teaching a violent past.  Guatemalan students do not study history, but “social studies” or civics, and newer textbooks even tend to remove history entirely from the curriculum. Many textbooks have no more than a few paragraphs on Guatemala’s great democratizing presidents in the 1940’s and 1950’s, and most Guatemalan national heroes tend to be painted either as tontos (fools) or heartless and cruel. Further complexity lies in the student themselves. While the curriculum should address issues of ethnic diversity and multiculturalism in a country as richly diverse as Guatemala, it tends to depict indigenous cultures as relics of the past.  Schools must also deal with having students from indigenous backgrounds, Ladino communities, and most provocatively, military families. Nevertheless, by withholding a thorough account of history and discrediting Guatemala’s great men and women, it’s a history lesson that tacitly reinforces an inaccurate depiction of the nation’s past and discourages active civic participation in the country’s youth.

Proactive efforts towards facing the horrors of the past, rather than ‘disappearing’ them, may be the first step towards a national recovery. Guatemala can use what is an inarguably tumultuous past to inform and guide its present and future; but a new question arises: how do you teach a violent past you’re still struggling to reconstruct?

Kate Bennett is currently researching nonprofit effectiveness in Guatemala. For more about her experiences, check out her blog. If you’re curious about this subject, please check out the book Teaching the Violent Past: History Education and Reconciliation to learn more.

Emanuel, a student from Santa Rosa, takes a picture.

I’ll never forget watching my first group of photo students in Solentiname walk away from me to shoot some of their first pictures. I was standing inside of the poorly lit classroom with a massive smile on my face – I could hardly contain my happiness – and reminded them one last time that I would be waiting in the classroom if they needed help with anything. But I doubt any of them actually heard me. With donated digital point-and-shoot cameras in hand, the students walked out of the small classroom building (that used to be somebody’s home) and immediately stopped to take pictures of each other, of the brightly colored hand prints painted on the wall, and of the pathway that led away from their current positions. It seemed as if they couldn’t wait to start taking pictures. It also seemed as if they were looking at the banal area outside of the classroom for the first time.

That was over two weeks ago. Now, I’ve started to give classes to four other groups, including a group of ten students from a very small island with a population of roughly 55 people called Santa Rosa (one of the archipelago’s 36 islands). Most of my students, whose ages range from nine to 18 years old with the exception of one adult student, have proven themselves to be natural born photographers even though the majority of them had never taken a picture before.

Just days before my first class I was having doubts about the role and importance of photography in such a rural area of Nicaragua. I kept thinking about the countless other ways that I could help the community of Solentiname and continuously questioned how photography might help the youth here.

After witnessing the beautiful pictures and even more beautiful smiles on the childrens’ faces as they took or looked at their pictures, my apprehensions withered away. My sense of purpose became clear as I realized the importance of developing a child’s confidence and creativity through extracurricular activities such as photography – especially in a place where extracurricular activities are virtually nonexistent. Another benefit of these photo classes is that each student receives prints of his or her best photographs after completing a certain number of photo assignments. While the students’ photos document their culture, the prints they receive will help preserve memories of their families, friends, and archipelago well into the future.

Well, as the title of this post indicates, I still have a year’s worth of photo classes and pleasant surprises ahead of me. Stay tuned for more!

I’m currently working on a blog where I can showcase the student’s work and share their stories. I’ll include details when the blog is up and running. For the meantime, check out Kids with Cameras, an awesome organization and a great example of how photography has helped a group of children from Calcutta’s red-light district.

The event had to be simple because of our limited resources and short amount of time to prepare. Some of the older children from the orphanage and some of the volunteers provided the music;  we offered cheap food options such as chilaquiles and enfrijoladas; and we spread the word via hand to hand flyering and word-of-mouth. Everyone decided that come what may come of the event – at least we were going to have a good time!

Not worrying about every expense and the amount of people who showed up was a huge help. As the sun shone down, we laughed and played the day away while eating good food and listening to music. The next day we learned, to our surprise, we had helped raise 5,000 Mexican Pesos for the Ixaya School!

It was incredibly encouraging to see how much can be done with pure energy and dedication, and how successful fundraisers can be, even if they’re thrown together at the last minute. And don’t be put off by the idea that you won’t be able to raise as much money in a Latin American country – every little bit helps and it’s great to get the local community involved. Think of a coffee shop that might be down with letting local musicians play a benefit night for the organization you’re volunteering with. Or find a public park where you can do some street theatre, and with a big sign advertising that says the money is going to a good cause, watch your hat fill up.

Anyone have creative, low-preparation fundraising ideas while one’s on the road?

For more tips on putting together a low-cost fundraiser, check out “Need Some Cash? 10 Ways to Fundraise.” For more traditional money-making ideas, check out Idealist.org’s Community Action Center.

They'll keep you on your toes

As a short-term volunteer I find myself doing anything from cleaning up the soon-to-be garden, working with children who have special needs, washing bag after bag of mosquito nets and donated clothing and toys – in addition to the endless amounts of random small tasks. Currently there are about 14 volunteers and because it’s the most volunteers Tashirat has ever seen, they are happily keeping us all busy to catch up on many projects. The work is challenging, but also incredibly rewarding because we all know that we are helping a cash-strapped organization with a great mission to run a bit more smoothly.

I hadn’t had much experience working with children before I came to Tashirat. I want anyone considering volunteering with kids for the first time to know one very important thing: kids can smell a new volunteer from a kilometer away!

Yep, kids are smart. Really smart. And they won’t hesitate to test you. Seeing the perplexed look on your face, they’ll tell you they’re allowed to do just about anything, seeing where you’ll give in and where you won’t. Try to get a clear idea from the organization staff about rules, discipline, diet, schedules, and special needs each child may have. Ask lots of questions and when in doubt, simply say: “Ok, that sounds interesting but let me ask first.” They’ll usually respond with, “Mmm, nevermind.”

It’s also incredibly important to maintain one’s sense of humor. Don’t get frustrated when the kids use up all the limones in the kitchen, claiming they have a cough and need the vitamin C. You’ll feel much better if you instead learn from the situation, mark one up for the kids, and laugh about it later.

During the current series of morning classes, which involve 17 children aged 5-13,  it has been delightful to see how quickly the children have absorbed and contributed to the idea that the “lago is their life.” And that change begins with each of us.

Today there will be a march of children and youth throughout the streets of San Pedro, announcing and dramatizing to the parents the need to save the lake for their future. While many people are talking about picking up trash in the streets and along the lake, and others are advocating reuse of plastic bottles and bags, the author of this march is suggesting a return to patterns of the recent past. This means creating natural soaps as well as using leaves that usually wrap tamales when purchasing meat in the market and covering vegetables, bread, and other purchases with a woven cloth. This last practice takes it’s cue from the women who wrap their purchases in their long embroidered aprons as they walk home.

I noticed a woman distributing individually wrapped bags of popcorn to the children. In the blink of an eye, the children had grabbed the popcorn away from the woman, and began desperately fighting over it. Pushing, shoving, kicking, and screaming ensued. Three children wound up on the ground.

In the end, few bags of popcorn had fallen into the hands of the children. The majority of the popcorn, ripped violently out of their individually wrapped packages, had fallen on the ground. The crowd of children and onlookers eventually dispersed, leaving a sidewalk littered with lonely, wasted popcorn and a foreigner trying to wrap her head around the scene she had just witnessed.

My mind flooded with questions and images. It reminded me of the pecking order of birds where the larger and stronger birds forcibly deny their weaker competition. The only difference here is that the birds are pecking for survival, whereas, these children had plenty to eat.

Couldn’t the popcorn be shared, instead of wasted on the ground? Did one child need to show his or her strength over the others? And what is it about this society that allowed a scene like this to occur?

Later on, I found out that Sunday, September 27 is called Dia de São Cosme and São Damião. On this religious holiday, individuals who have received good fortune give back to the community by distributing small bags of candy or treats to children. The holiday is meant to commemorate the kind actions and medical miracles performed by these twin brothers centuries ago.

Watching this incident unfold reminded me of a similar event that happened last year in favela Tabajaras. Project volunteers decided to renovate their meeting space by planting a garden and painting over tasteless graffiti. Everyone was invited to help. Many of the adults worked during the day, but a few children eventually showed up.

Before the volunteers could assign the children tasks to perform, they stole the paint that the volunteers had selflessly pooled their money to buy, and ran off. They poured the paint over themselves and over beautiful tables in the plaza that had checkerboard tops. Their objective wasn’t to be malicious; they were simply having fun in the moment.

Seeing the big picture, these acts seem thoughtless, wasteful, and destructive. However, not everyone thinks the same way. In the field, there will be times when the ways of thinking, acting, and doing are different from your own. You may not understand. You may not agree. And you may not be able to fix the root of the problem.

Sometimes all you can do, is remember São Cosme and São Damião. These brothers rose to fame not only because the miracles they performed, but also the ways in which they performed their good deeds. They never accepted payment, and even in the light of persecution, remained faithful to themselves and dedicated to their work. Sometimes all you can do is be yourself, lead by example, and in the infamous words of Jiminy Cricket, let your conscience be your guide.

Mr. Daniel Jones and his class

Miss Colette is one of my expat friends here on Ambergris Caye. An avid volunteer for many organizations, she saw a need within the community and decided to start her own program, Be Kind Belize, which resolves to teach kindness and empathy to kids. Humane education programs such as these help children develop stronger interpersonal skills – speaking and listening, for example – and can help to improve attitudes towards caring for others. Respect for all life is one of its core values.

Currently, Miss Colette is looking for volunteers who are interested in setting up programs at individual schools here in Belize. If you’re not in Belize but want to help from afar, she is also looking for volunteers to secure donations for prizes for the kids. (Animal-themed items are preferred, but any cool kids’ stuff is welcome.)

Another great place to volunteer at is our local humane society, SAGA. Founded in 1999, Saga is a nonprofit organization whose goal is to help homeless and suffering dogs, cats and other animals. Most of the stray dogs and cats on the island and other areas of Belize are not neutered, and many are undernourished and ridden with disease.

Saga Society is working on raising money to build a better animal shelter on the island. They are also in the process of establishing a subsidized neutering program with the hopes of eliminating the current Health Department approach to animal control, which is the use of strychnine poison.

When volunteering, consider what interests and skills you have to offer and how you can adapt them to the local community you choose to volunteer in. There are so many great organizations in Belize that will welcome extra hands. Lan Sluder a well known writer and authority on Belize, has highlighted many of them on his Belize First website, in addition to giving great tips for getting the most from your volunteer experience.

I am currently living in Camoapa, a small village located in the central highlands of Nicaragua. I work as the Program Assistant for Hogar Luceros del Amanecer, a project of The Sunrise Foundation. Hogar, as it is affectionately called by the locals, is a small project that serves 22 disadvantaged children (ages six and up) and their families. For the children we offer a home-base, which includes schooling for those in 1st to 3rd grade (those who have passed 3rd grade attend public school), three nutritious meals a day, homework help, health education, psychological services, play time and general life skills education, including opportunities such as cultural dance lessons or learning a trade.

For their families, we provide trainings in various topics (childhood development, family planning, nutrition, etc.) as well as general resource allocation when we receive donations such as clothes or household items. Occasionally, in conjunction with other local organizations, we make visits to smaller surrounding villages to offer various forms of support. And finally we operate an up-and-coming organic farm that we hope will one day be self-sustaining.

I am here because I have an affinity for the Latin American culture, I desperately want to be fluent in Spanish and I want to make a difference. Oh, and I love children. But also, having just graduated with my Masters degree in Public Policy and Administration, I am also excited about the opportunity to learn about the administrative side of project development and community organizing because some day I’d like to run my own organization. At this point I plan to be here for approximately one year, but after that, if a great opportunity presents itself, there is no telling where I might go or what I might do.

Despite the frequent molestias of daily life in a developing country (e.g. frogs swimming in my toilet, bathing out of a bucket, coup d’états across the border), it is the truly remarkable people, the unceasing surprises and the unpredictable adventures that make it all worthwhile. Just the other day, a friend of mine rescued an injured sloth from the hands of some mischievous local children. After paying a visit to the veterinarian, he brought it by the program center as a show-and-tell while en route to deliver it back to the wild. This is the kind of fortuitous event that turns regular daily life into an ongoing adventure for me. I hope that my (and our) future stories, suggestions and/or musings about the meaning of life, or simply the meaning of life in Latin America, can serve as an inspiration for some of you to participate is similar work. For others, I hope they can be an agent for unchallenged reflection. Whichever the case, I hope they are enjoyable. Welcome.