I love my job.

Now, these critics have a point. If volunteering abroad could be a full-time, financially viable profession, I would jump on that boat in a heartbeat. Currently, I am home working my tail off, specifically so that I can afford to venture back to Central America and volunteer with another non-profit organization.

But working abroad can be a “serious” job too. As a 23-year-old American, I believe that my generation’s conception of a “real” job differs from that of my parents’. When my parents were in their 20s, the professional world existed largely within various office settings and occurred between the hours of 9am and 5pm. Sure, Mad Men, Pleasantville, and I Love Lucy have impressed upon us a generalization of professionalism in the 50’s and 60’s, but that generalization is grounded in truth.

However, in the globalized and tech-savvy world of today, “serious” jobs can have many different forms. While many young adults work the traditional 40 hour weeks in offices (which can be very productive and fulfilling), the advancement of communication technology enables many young professionals to work from home. Likewise, increasing numbers of young adults seek careers as consultants, which allow them to travel throughout the country and work with different companies. For me and many others, the most rewarding jobs are based in developing countries. Nonprofit jobs look very different depending on the country, the organization, the coworkers, etc., but they all require a commitment to development, and a passion for experiencing new lifestyles and cultures.

As fruitless job hunts and the media remind me frequently, the current job market in the US is uninspiring. Nevertheless, I feel so lucky to be part of a generation that has options in the types of jobs available. Any job is a “serious” job, if it supports me and allows me to pursue my passions.

Ginny just finished a thirteen-month commitment as Program Director with Manna Project International-Guatemala. For more on Ginny’s experiences in Guatemala, check out her blog.

When people ask me “how did you find that opportunity?”, my response goes something like this: I created it. After several failed job attempts, I decided it was time to blaze my own trail.

So, where did you begin? For me it was simple: I asked myself what I loved the most and went from there. As the Buddha said, “Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.” So that’s exactly what I did. I discovered what I knew all along: that I love to inspire and empower others. And so my goal became to first empower myself and then to go out and share what I had learned with others.

After some exposure and training, I proceeded to search out opportunities in the Guatemala City. Ultimately, if you are looking to create your own path, you have to put yourself out there.  First, I had a lead at a local psychology clinic.  I made an initial visit with the clinic and they seemed to be interested. Almost too easy, right? But after several weeks of waiting I realized that if I was going to be working with the clinic, I was going to have to create the position. Using my creativity, I designed a new program to help students preparing to study abroad. Creating this opportunity for myself- seeing a need and making myself useful- was my ticket in and everything else has flowed from that.

With that being said here are a few tips to help you create your own path in Latin America:

1. What are you passionate about? Figure it out and fire up your passions.
2. Attend workshops, trainings, and gatherings centered on your passion and build your network. If you haven’t relocated yet, consider researching for opportunities to network through the websites like Idealist, VolunteerSouthAmerica.org, KindMankind, or LaVidaIdealist.org!
3. Build contacts in country, through friends or acquaintances, and use these contacts to create your opportunities. Ask what they’re up to! Ask how to get involved! And most importantly, play up your skill set and passion! Make sure to think creatively if you are looking to blaze your path.
4. Above all remember to stay positive and persistent in your quest. The possibilities are endless!

For more thoughts on how to find an opportunity abroad, check out Six Simple Steps for Volunteering Abroad, Making It Happen For Yourself, A Job Search from Abroad…, How to Choose a Volunteer Placement Abroad, or LaVidaIdealist’s treasure trove of past posts on looking for opportunities abroad. 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.

As a volunteer we do have to do our research. Just like someone donating (discussed pointedly in Amanda’s recent post “Too Much Charity“) in order to make a difference, we have to do a background check on who we donate our time to. We also must realize that volunteer organizations operating in Latin America under the “do-gooder” guise are not always that transparent or altruistic.

I guess I didn’t do my research.

When I volunteered last year with a foundation in Tena, Ecuador (doing trail maintenance), I felt mislead. After finishing my two-week stay, I was to understand that the organization was in a “transitional phase” during my visit, but even considering this, I was a bit let down.

The facilities were functional but surprisingly run down. The food was good but simple. And more than once during my 2-week stay the “manager” was found in the morning arguing with the kitchen help about buying enough food for the week, and basically telling the cook to make due because there was no money to buy food. This surprised me. Considering the amount of money that the volunteers from the states paid to do the same work I was doing, I was appalled that this site was short on cash.

But the frustrating part was it seemed that the organization had a really successful history. There was evidence of some really productive volunteer projects.  However, it seemed the “transitional phase” really was impacting their work. The new volunteer coordinator seemed more motivated to talk to me about the “monas locas de Guayaquil” than any kind of project. He was open to ideas, but during our Friday meetings, it seemed that he would come up with excuses to not do many of them.

I am not complaining. I still enjoyed myself immensely. We did some useful projects to improve the trail infrastructure in the short time I was there, and I met some great people with whom I am still in contact.

However, if you are going to volunteer in Ecuador, I would follow the same recommendations that Amanda mentions for donations. Mainly, just do your research and try to work directly with the organization where you are going to volunteer.
I realize that these places do need to spend money on marketing to attract their target audience in the US and Europe, but I would like to have seen more of the cost of the program go directly to the site. I left questioning the integrity of these booking agencies that set up the projects from the states and wondering where does the revenue go from the high program costs if not directly into the site?

For more posts on paying (or not paying) to volunteer abroad in Latin America, check out “It Pays To Do Some Research,” “Pesos and centavos: Should you pay to volunteer abroad in Latin America?” by Megan Kaseburg, “Making a Difference While Making a Living – But How?” by Caitlin McHale,  or “From Volunteering to Paid Work: Development Careers in Latin America” by Andrew Wainer. Philip Dixon is an English literature teacher in Ecuador, who has just relocated from Guayaquil to Quito, and a devoted mountain biker. For more information on his experiences, check out his blog.

Overlooking San Antonio de Flores

My journey into the field of international development was bred from a mix of wanting to be like Indiana Jones and a champion for world peace. I also really liked the idea of getting paid to travel around the world and interact with local people. That being said, I didn’t always want to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was always an option, but it wasn’t the option for a while.

I got into the Elliott School for International Affairs at George Washington University and was dead set on becoming a global somebody. Then I took a class my sophomore year on the Anthropology of Development and my world got shaken up a bit.

Before that class, I had a very naïve view of international development and foreign aid. Professor Shepherd quickly broke all of that down. As students we were presented with harsh realities and taught to look deeper and question the effectiveness and purpose of development work. The role of aid institutions in the Rwandan Genocide, what? You mean a dam the World Bank built actually damaged the local environment and its inhabitants? Peace Corps Volunteers aren’t the change-makers of the world? So you’re saying that international aid organizations can do more harm than good? Now, it’s not as though Professor Shepard crushed all of my hopes and dreams, but he definitely broke my rose-tinted glasses when it came to development work.

After learning that development work is much more complicated and messier than it seemed, I told myself I did not want to be a PCV. I wanted to create effective change. I wanted to make a real impact. I didn’t want to go to some far off place for 2 years of my life and have the local people resent me for my arrogance and assuming they don’t know better. I didn’t want to be a part of any organization that patronized the people it was claiming to help and empower. Furthermore, two years felt like a long time, a serious commitment. I didn’t want to commit to something that I wasn’t completely confident in. Things that had once been black and white were quickly turning gray.

So what made me change my mind about the Peace Corps?

A couple of things. First, after filling my head with more and more questions and not a whole lot of answers about international development and what working in such a field meant, I decided to do my research and see what this business was all about. Secondly, I realized that many programs like Peace Corps are about experience and perspective, not necessarily saving the world. By sharing experiences, both professional and personal, volunteers can help empower others in their community. It may not be the big impact that many an aspirante expects or hopes for when entering service, but they provide the building blocks for bigger changes that take time to develop. Much more time than two years.

Before deciding to apply to Peace Corps, I went to a number of information sessions. I hounded my local recruiter with questions about his experiences, how volunteers are supported, what the expectations are, etc. I was still hung up on the idea of committing two years of my life to this. My inner thought process was: when I finish I could be 26 and then I need two more years to get my Master’s degree so I’ll be like, 28. And then what if I want to start a family, and I’ll be so old…and down the slippery slope I went. An older, wiser friend knocked some sense into me and I concluded that two years really is not as much time as it seems.

I also went back to talk to Professor Shepherd, also an RPCV (returned Peace Corps volunteer), to get some direct, no-holds-barred advice as well. He told me (to paraphrase), “Look: the Peace Corps is a great experience and you will never have another job like it. But you can’t go into it thinking you are going to save the world and do big, amazing things for your community. If you go into it with such high expectations you are going to be disappointed and it will be much more difficult for you to be an effective volunteer. You need to focus on the little things. If Peace Corps is what you want to do, you will get the most out of it if you don’t expect too much of yourself and keep your mind open to learning everything you can from the experience.”

Armed with plenty of advice and information, I decided that I’d give Peace Corps a shot and now here I am in Honduras. The application process took a little over a year. I started writing my application in February, submitted it in April, was nominated in May (on my birthday as fate would have it), but I didn’t receive an invitation to serve until the following March with my departure date set for mid-June. It is a process that requires some patience.

The author at an HIV/AIDS charla

Now that I am past the halfway mark of my service, the advice I received is all the more relevant. Peace Corps is a great experience. I have never before felt so sure about a decision and what I am doing. However it is not without its challenges. You definitely have to be proactive, you need to maintain confidence, and “flexibility” takes on a whole new meaning. I am also incredibly grateful that Prof. Shepherd always kept it straight and taught his students how to think and question projects, programs, and expectations. Many PCV’s struggle with the harsh reality of their communities and the limits of being one volunteer in a sea of complex issues and systems. It is challenging, invigorating, and no one volunteer’s experience is identical. It is definitely not for everyone, but it is a worthy challenge for those who choose accept it.

Check out two more interesting takes on the life of a PCV: the Official PSA, and So you want to join the Peace Corps? Amanda is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

A friend from Canada brought me a Mini Netbook Notebook laptop when she visited in April. I am still paying her back through giving English lessons to some girls she supports here. The computer was great as it allowed me to work from home and from my bed in the middle of the night as my toddler son sleeps. As we have had several pieces of electronic equipment stolen in the past, I was very protective over this little computer. I pretty much always carried it around in my book bag on my back.

After having the computer for less than a month, it disappeared. The day that it disappeared was a hectic day as we had a volunteer group here and I was trying to balance that on top of other everyday activities. I rushed out the door to make some copies before picking up the volunteer group and heading off to a community where we have a school to do house visits and school registrations which we would use to create student profiles for a new sponsorship program.I parked my vehicle in a parking area that borders Central Park in town. Without thinking and perhaps the first time ever, I left my bookbag, along with my computer, in the vehicle.

I ended up returning to the car once or twice to retrieve things before getting the job done and taking off to meet the volunteers. There was a man standing outside of my vehicle each time I returned which made me uneasy. This particular man I don’t like to see around at all because he is a healthy, intelligent appearing man who speaks perfect English yet he hangs around the park and begs or does begging type activities such as this. I was sure he would ask me for 50 pesos for protecting my vehicle and I was fully prepared with a firm negative reply as my vehicle was in a perfectly safe place and I felt that his presence was more dangerous than the presence of no one.

When I finally returned back to the car, the man was gone. I was confused, but didn´t have much time to wonder as I took off to meet the volunteers. I picked them up at the place where they were staying, we packed in the vehicle, and headed off to do school registrations. The first house we visited was overcrowded with the family itself and neighbors. During our visit, I was asked to move my vehicle from in front of the house to let other cars pass. I parked it around the corner and this time deliberately left my bookbag inside, thinking that in this case it would be safer locked up than on my back as I would likely take it off at some point and could forget it somewhere. I was sure that the vehicle was locked before returning to the house.

We spent about two or three hours in this community before packing back in and heading out. All volunteers were in good spirits as we left and wanted to stop by a store to get some snacks. I dropped them off and ran some errands as they shopped. After they hopped out of the car, I felt the urge to check my book bag and verify that the laptop was there. It was not. I didn’t want their good moods to be spoiled or their impression of the country and its residents to be harmed so I kept quiet. Later I told Kristin, who was leading the trip and translating and has been through many such situations with me here before…

Stay tuned for Part II next week!

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

I recently went to teach two girls in my youth group how to make cheesecake. The setting was one that made me thankful it wasn’t my home sweet home. No running water. The bathroom was a dark and stinky room with a curtain as a door. Though there was a toilet, it was connected to no plumbing, and I was thoroughly confused as to how showers were taken. As the cheesecake was being mixed, I saw a large cockroach climb up the unfinished concrete wall next to the stove. Finding a bowl big enough to mix all the ingredients was a bit of a challenge. The house had a one-room floor plan: kitchen, living room, and bedroom (for the three generations living there). The bathroom was off to the side, the door to outside was covered with a curtain. The outdoor dish sink was also the laundry sink.

And I started thinking: why me? Why am I the richer one? Why her? Why does this 14-year-old girl have to live like this? And I am reminded of the struggles other expats go through. But then I am reminded of my great aunt, a nun that has been serving the poor in upstate New York my whole life. She once told me (as we both discussed the personal effects of this economic dilemma) that if we don’t have more than the people we are helping, we would be in the same place they are — we’d never be able to help them. C.S. Lewis, in his book, Mere Christianity, said something similar:

“If I am drowning in a rapid river, a man who still has one foot on the bank may give me a hand which saves my life. Ought I to shout back (between my gasps) ‘No, it’s not fair! You have an advantage! You’re keeping one foot on the bank’? That advantage—call it ‘unfair’ if you like—is the only reason why he can be of any use to me. To what will you look for help if you will not look to that which is stronger than yourself?”

Please don’t get me wrong. I am not saving anyone’s life by teaching them how to make cheesecake. I am only trying to teach them something that might be useful in life. But generally speaking, the guilt we expats/volunteers can often feel has no roots. We’ve only been helped in life by others who were more educated, more experienced, stronger, more financially stable. (And I continue to be helped by such people.) But the cycle must continue: we cannot let guilt be our excuse for anything. It simply seems to stop us from doing and forces us to pity those around us. We stop helping and start over-analyzing. I have a flushing toilet, electricity and an array of bakeware in the place I call home. If I didn’t, I’m not sure I would have had this experience.

Gena Thomas is an English teacher and faith-based coffee shop co-manager with her husband in Mexico. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

An example are the seemingly large amount of foreign pedophile men who prey on the most vulnerable boys on the streets… the same boys that Project Esperanza works to empower and educate. Many boys who have been influenced by such men have little understanding of right and wrong on the matter and are surprised and curious to hear that these men would be arrested for this behavior in their home countries (Australia, Canada, Italy, and Germany are the home countries of those I have encountered so far due to their active and consistent activity in the Puerto Plata community. However, since I have been living here, two of these four men have actually passed away).

It has been made clear to me that expats and the way they behave here has quite a bit of influence on society. We know that money is powerful, especially in communities where many are without, and the way those with power behave truly shapes society, whether we realize it or not. If there is a large demand for prostitutes by those in power and this is an industry that is rewarded then girls and women will learn the trade of prostitution since there is reward there. Many Dominicans learn to work a system and take advantage of certain opportunities, thinking more for themselves and their families rather than the foreigner they take advantage of.

Some visiting foreigners are turned off by certain things they come across here and decide not to return. This is understandable, but really only leaves more room for the foreigners with bad intentions who negatively influence society.

Virginia Tech study abroad student volunteers leading Muñoz students in a lesson.

Therefore, I always feel motivated and convicted to invite good intentioned foreigners into the community, to encourage them to serve the community despite challenges, and to collaborate in order to successfully execute change creating efforts. After six years of leading volunteers, (the majority being American college students) to this country, I feel as though I have learned a great deal as to what works and what doesn’t, what is overwhelming to volunteers, and what is manageable, what is actually productive and desired by the community, and what isn’t, etc.

With all of this in mind, this summer we at Project Esperanza are running a volunteer program. The main project volunteers will work on is an English immersion camp in the center of town. In the afternoons, volunteers will travel to the Haitian communities where we work in order to see our programs and execute other activities to serve these communities. We still have many spots for those wishing to volunteer between the dates of July 1st and August 6th. For more information, please read this link on Project Esperanza’s website. Hopefully we’ll see some of you this summer!

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

For my first few months, my colleagues regularly warned me about the bone-chilling cold that was right around the corner. Frequently, as I hurried into school, teeth chattering, and rushed to warm my hands over the fire, the Patagónes would give me a “this ain’t nothing” smile and tell me to buy extra scarves. But once the temperature really started dropping, the wind pounding, and the frosts becoming daily, even the locals would shiver around the chimney, speculating on how long that particular cold snap would last. Our poor Physical Education teacher, whose gym is practically outdoors (there are only three walls) would come running into the teacher’s lounge between classes shaking with cold and saying “Hoy día sí que sí” (Today, yes, it’s really quite cold).

This winter was a particularly severe one: the region had the worst snowstorms in thirty years. When the big nevazón hit last July, we were without light, water, internet, and phone service for three days. Plus, all roads out of Puerto Aisén were snowed in, which meant the ambulance couldn’t get to Coyhaique, lots of people couldn’t get to work, and many more (myself included) missed their flights.

I did finally get to Santiago, my winter vacation destination, a week later. Once upon a time, I thought that Santiago was cold in winter, but on this vacation – as my American friends layered up and shivered – it felt almost tropical in comparison.

Once I leave Patagonia, I’ll probably remember the cold here as a series of images: my vice-principal walking down the street puffing his cigarette through clenched lips, both hands shoved protectively into his pockets; a friend’s mom handing me a stack of five wool blankets to supplement my comforter; students running to flock around the fire as soon as they enter my classroom; me pulling on a second pair of socks – and then tucking my sweatpants into them; the lock of our iron-gate frozen icy white in the mornings; my frantic rush to make fire after work, ripping up page after page of newspaper as kindling. And, of course, an image I’d never want to forget – the graceful snow-covered slopes that surround the town on three sides.

Nereida Heller is currently volunteering in Puerto Aisén, Chile with the English Open Doors Program. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Birthday steak. It's the best steak of the year.

During the first day of Spanish school, for example, whenever I would comment on something pleasant, my teacher would reply “Que linda!”  After mistakenly calling my classmate Anni “Linda” for the first two hours of class, it was finally explained to me that “que linda” means “how nice” or “that’s pretty.” Thank goodness I figured out this expression at the beginning of the week, because I’ve been using it a lot, and I don’t think Anni would help me with my homework if I still called her Linda.

My Spanish classes started last Monday at a private school called Amauta.  Amauta is located in the Belgrano barrio of Buenos Aires, about a 15 minute not-so-smooth bus ride from my apartment in Recoleta.  Amauta offers group lessons, individual tutoring, an array of volunteer projects, and free cultural events everyday after school.  I wanted to brush up on my Spanish skills and then volunteer for a few months afterward, so Amauta seemed like the perfect choice for me.  I was right.

My “group” lessons consist of my girlfriend, Erin, a German girl named Anni, and myself, and seem more like a private Spanish study group than a class.  The teachers are amazing and the staff is extremely friendly and helpful.  They set up my volunteer work within a few hours, connecting me with a local newspaper that I very excited to work for. I ended the week on Friday taking free tango lessons offered by the school and being “forced” to tango with seven girls because I was the only guy.  Que linda!

Last night Erin took me out to dinner at one of the best restaurants in Buenos Aires for my birthday.  My steak was served with about 12 side dishes and was perfectly cooked.  All in all, it was one of the best meals of my life (Disclaimer: this verdict is in no way clouded by the complementary champagne served before and after dinner).  Life in Buenos Aires has been good to me and I am so ready to start giving back.  Que linda!

I gave her as uncomprehending a stare as I could, and she explained “Ob Sie genug Platz haben!” (if you [formal] have enough room). I understood, mumbled something affirmative, and began to work out the fact that “Geeps?” was “Gibt’s?” a contraction of “Gibt es?” which means “Is there?” – as in enough space. I was pretty proud to have reached that conclusion by the time the bus dropped me off at Sewanstrasse, 15 minutes later.

This kind of thing used to happen to me quite a bit in Chile. Chileans do not dish out crisp little sentences as many Latin Americans do. They lob around crazy mud-pies at full speed, after having changed some endings, remove “s” and “d,” and toss in a bunch of diminutives and slang.

Thus, mas o menos becomes maomeno; quieres is queri; estas is estai; café is cafecito; pescado is pescao; mucho is caleta; fiesta is carrete; perrito is cachorro; cerveza is chela, etc., etc., ad infinitum.

I learned Spanish in Chile, and never studied formally – which essentially means I speak Chileno rather than castellano. There are some words that I learned wrong, like “respuesta” (response). Chileans pronounce this word “repueta” – and that is how I thought it was spelled for a long time. I recently discovered that “paraguas” has an “s” at the end.

Just last week I was advised, to my great consternation, that “denantes” – a word I use quite a bit to mean “before,” or “a minute ago” – exists only in Chile, and is grammatically questionable. As a devoted grammarian, I was concerned: how many other incorrect Chilenismos pollute my Spanish?

A few months ago I met a Mexicana and was blown away by her enunciation, and the relaxed pace of her speech. At first I thought she had slowed down deliberately for my benefit – but it eventually dawned on me that that was simply how she spoke. For a few minutes I was in danger of becoming embittered against the entire nation of Chile for making me suffer. But I couldn’t – I love Chilean Spanish! And I’m incredibly relieved that I can finally (mostly) understand.

Nereida Heller is currently volunteering in Puerto Aisén, Chile with the English Open Doors Program. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

For more musings on learning another language, check out these posts from other La Vida Idealist bloggers: “How to Learn a Language“; “The Multiple Personalities of You“; “¿Dónde Está El Baño?“; “Help! I’ve Reached the Foreign Language Flatlands!”; “What Your Language Teacher Doesn’t Want You to Know”; “Could You Pick Up Some Milk and a Second Language While You’re Out?”; “Forget Language Teachers…I’ve Got Kids”; and “5 Surprises About International Volunteering: #2 – Language Non-Barriers.”