¡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.

“I thought about the people who were left there. Who is going to care for them?’’

In the aftermath of Peace Corps pulling out of Honduras I have noticed two things in the media response: increased emphasis and focus on the violence and drug-trafficking going on in Honduras, and that sentiment countered by articles like the one above, lamenting Peace Corps’ decision and talking about all of the other volunteer organizations still working there.

Firstly, I am glad that there are still organizations working in Honduras in an effort to support the people there. Peace Corps is not the end all, be all of foreign aid to the country.

However, I have a big problem with the quote above. This is the number one problem I see in international volunteering and development practices and it all comes down to one itty-bitty word. Who is going to care “for them”?  It was never the job of a Peace Corps Volunteer, nor any development worker for that matter, to be the caregiver of a community. The Hondurans I know are all very capable and resilient people stuck in an extremely difficult situation with a government and justice system that does not work for them and an aid system that is not doing enough to empower them. (The keyword there is empower.)

The international community should care about what is going on in Honduras (or at least any country affected by the Drug Trade, Honduran emigration, and the resulting human rights issues should care). There is a difference, though, in caring about something and caring for something. The Honduran people need help in a lot of things, but that does not mean that all of the bleeding hearts of the developed world should go down there and hand feed all of the poor people and build houses for them (now, if you change that “for” to “with” and have a capacity-building component, that’s a different story). Doing things “for” people, especially people in a place as broken as Honduras, is hurting them much more than it is helping them. I call it the Charity Curse and Honduras has been a victim of it, in a way, for the past 50 years.

I am not happy about Peace Corps pulling out of Honduras, but considering the policy changes that Peace Corps needs to consider in order to improve operations in the country as a whole, it was the best decision. I am happy that there are organizations and groups that are able to continue their operations in the country and I wish them success, but it breaks my heart to think about how many mission trips and volunteer groups are led by that same sentiment: “who will care for these people?”

Please. Don’t care “for these people,” care “about” them. Teach them, empower them stand on their own two feet, help them demand accountability and transparency from their own government and organizations, but don’t go down there with gifts of food and houses thinking these people will be better off. More gringos will just be back in a year to do the same thing for the same people over and over again and nothing will change. That is the curse of charity; the curse of caring “for” something.

The problems and challenges Honduras faces are things that can only be solved by the Honduran people. They will need support, they may seek guidance, but if anyone tries to do it for them, whatever success is achieved will never last.

Amanda Browne is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog. This post is a response to Kate Bennett’s post “To Hell with Good Intentions?” in December, and a complement to Amanda’s recent post “Too Much Charity?” To hear more from Peace Corps Volunteers in Central America and the Caribbean, check out “Forever and a Day: 27 Months Abroad” by Joe Sigrin, “To Kiva Fellow or Not to Kiva Fellow,” by Rob Gradoville, or “The Peace Corps Pulls out of Honduras: The Spectrum of Human Emotion,” also by Amanda. Disclaimer: The contents of this article are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

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.

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.

Before I volunteered as a Kiva Fellow in Sierra Leone (May of 2011) and Bolivia (September 2011), I was living in Santa Barbara, California. Imagine: Santa Barbara beaches saturated with color, mansions with the smell of jasmine twisting through the air, and a pace of life only to be set by the sun. While there, I was working for a de jure artist and took up the ranks as a de facto artist myself. Life was pretty easy, and moving to a developing country and working with microfinance seemed a million miles away. Leaving it all made me wonder why I would forfeit the comfort and normalcy of home for places where it feels like I have to relearn basic parts of life (i.e. restroom, showers, and food).

While volunteering, I was often asked , “Why would you come volunteer in my country?” Each time, I rambled about a desire to foster opportunities in the development of people around the world. But that is just it, how concise can pre-volunteers really be?

Well, the life of a volunteer goes with the wind. Four weeks ago I was living in Sierra Leone and today I am sitting in an office in Bolivia. Obviously, volunteering is not the most advantageous financial move one can make; in fact, while in the States, I qualified for free immunizations before coming to Bolivia because I was “low income”. In all honesty, most volunteers are a footnote to an organization’s real employees, and the “We couldn’t do it without you” speech only gets volunteers high for a split second. So why endure the bucket showers in Sierra Leone and language barriers in South America? Why volunteer?

For me, it has to do with something I encountered as a child while hiking around my home in Washington State. I saw the diverse beauty of nature: cedars, Douglas firs, ferns, and myriad wildflowers. I then thought about the diverse beauty of humanity (although those weren’t my exact thoughts as a child…). What it came down to was that I knew people (and the world) had to be different beyond my hometown population of ninety-something.

I didn’t leave and volunteer to “save the world.” (Do people still do that?) Rather, I had this desire to cease to be dichotomized from the developing world. Volunteering was a means to share life with people and hope to understand why populations live at different standards of living. This, hopefully, is joining in the process of lifting people out of poverty –the more minds and hearts that are included in the “process” (any process or cause you are voluneering for), the more potential there is to yield results and answers.

The wonder in volunteering, I have found, is simply in the interaction between me and a Kiva Borrower (those who recieve loans). In most cases, we each have something to add to the life of the other. With Kiva, microfinance volunteer work is geared to sustainably enable entrepreneurs in developing countries by facilitating capital for their business through loans.

My greatest interest in life was to see this “process,” and I have been so encouraged by what Kiva Borrowers are doing with their loans to better their lives. In reality, when any volunteers collaborate with people in development, we begin to answer for ourselves the questions we could not articulate beforehand. Within it all, volunteers are fortunate to take the time and witness the diverse beauty of humanity.

Arriving to one’s town of service, one of the volunteer’s principal concerns is the host family. Will they like me? Is their house clean? Will I have some semblance of privacy and personal space? Will we be able to communicate and co-exist during my stay here? The build-up to that first meeting is a time of anxiousness and excitement.

My baby "cousin" Jeltin with his big brother Malcon

Before arriving to my town as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I had lived with four host-families in various travels and experiences. I always got along very well with them, never any serious mis-communications. (Just the occasional mishap like confusing cucumbers for horseradish. They definitely do not taste as similar as they can look.) Despite my experiences, I was just as nervous and anxious to meet this family that would introduce me to my new home for the next two years. Not to mention, I have always been accustomed to living independently with plenty of personal space. I thought for sure I was going to move into my own place after the obligatory 2-month stay with the host family.

To my surprise, I have yet to move out of my host family’s house and I having been living here for 14 months. Apart from the fact that the house is spacious, very clean, and my host mom is an excellent cook, it turns out that we really did adopt each other as family. My fellow volunteers find it hard to believe how natural and comfortable my living situation is until they come and see it for themselves.

A little bit about my living situation: the house is a quarter-block, traditional style house (patio in the center) in the middle of town. My room is one of three set apart from the main house where the kitchen, living room and two other bedrooms are. The family that lives in the house consists of my host mom, two host sisters (27 and 30 years old respectively), the husband and three-year-old son of the 27 year old, and a 16 year-old housekeeper to help my host mom. I have a 25-year-old sister who lives next door with her new husband and a 31-year-old brother who lives down the road with his wife and her family. My host mom’s husband passed away a year before I arrived, so it’s just us lovely ladies in the house. Plus Juben (my brother-in-law). All of the children are educated, finishing up their first or second university degrees and all three of the sisters are teachers, so they are very open-minded and easy to communicate with. It is an ideal set-up.

Now, let’s be honest, matching volunteers with a good host-family can be a crapshoot. Sometimes you land in situations that are not conducive to your personal and emotional health. I do think that I got lucky, but I also think that one’s attitude towards a host-family situation is crucial.  If you go into such an arrangement with the mind-set that it’s going to be horrible, or that you’re just going to get by until you can move out, you may miss out on some of the benefits and opportunities, such as:

1. Integration

Community integration is key for a volunteer, especially when operating solo as many Peace Corps volunteers do. The better you get to know the people in your community, their customs and expectations, the easier it will be for you to identify community leaders and initiatives that you can pursue. My mayor is good friends with my host family and would often stop by for coffee on Sundays. This was a great opportunity for me to get to know him and also talk to him about the community, what he was doing, and what he thought needed to get done. I also got to know people in the community by going on visits with my host mom or sisters. This was also helpful for learning the proper protocol for visits: what to say, how to behave, what to bring (if necessary), and how long was appropriate to stay. My host family was huge part of my cultural education.

2. Community news/happenings

There is no shortage of chisme (gossip) living with a host family in a small town. Between my family members and the people passing through to pay a visit, I have 24/7 access to my town’s local news network. As with most gossip, it varies from person to person, but I am generally clued into most things from the latest relationship scandals to local crime incidents.

3. Security

On that note, it is important to mention the value of a host family as local protection. Volunteers do not always live in the safest corners of the world and the added fact that they come from developed countries gives the impression that they are carrying around a lot of money. This makes volunteers bigger targets for assaults, robberies, and break-ins. Now, I’m not saying your family acts as a bodyguard in the literal sense, but they do form a shield of “belonging” over you.

Anytime the topic of break-ins comes up, my host mom always tells me, “Oh, Amandita, if you were living by yourself, for certain they already would have tried to break in to your house.” Though that would not have stopped me from moving out if I really wanted to, it is absolutely true. A single, American female living by herself? Not only would I be seen as an easy target, they’d think I was loaded as well (aka: jackpot). So far I have not had any troubles during my service, partly due to my own vigilance but also in part because my family keeps me informed about dangerous times and places.

4. Language skills

Many volunteers who live by themselves plateau in their language skills after they move out. Volunteers and staff who don’t get to see me often always comment on my high level of Spanish and conversational ability compared to when I first got here. Some friends in my community have also told me that they could barely understand what I was saying when they first met me, but now they have no problem. Chock another one up to the host fam. Living with a host family forces me to communicate in Spanish 24/7. Living by myself, I would not have to think or speak in Spanish while at home. With my host family, from the moment I wake up until I go to my room to decompress and go to sleep, I am thinking in Spanish. At first it was exhausting and took some effort, but it got easier after a couple months. It is assuredly the number one thing that has improved my fluency.

5. Other (perhaps better) family and living situations

Like I said, host families can be a crapshoot. If you don’t end up in an ideal situation, and you do not have the option to live by yourself, take advantage of the connections you make with other people and their families. Through my host family, I got to know some of the cousins that would come and visit. Turns out that we got along really well so I started hanging out at their house frequently.  As it turns out, they were one of the families originally considered to be my host family. I visit them almost everyday now. I share my computer and my iPod with them. They fix my cell phone when it gets busted, introduce me to Spanish rock music, and feed me mangos. It’s a pretty sweet relationship. If, for whatever reason, I was no longer able or willing to stay with my current host family or by myself, they would be the first people I would turn to.

6. Cost

It is a lot cheaper living with a host family than by yourself. I pay one lump sum to my host family each month and it covers food, lodging, cleaning, laundry, and utilities. Those would all be separate costs if I lived by myself, plus the initial cost of purchasing furniture. I’d say I save at least $50 a month, which is about a fifth of my monthly stipend.

Sometimes, when living abroad, it is necessary to have your own place to manage your personal space and your mental health. However, it’s not always an option and many volunteers I have interacted with dread the thought of having to stay with a host family for more than a few months. I was one of them, actually. What I have found, though, is that building a strong relationship with your host family not only provides the benefits listed above, but also a strong personal support network. Being away from one’s friends and family for an extended period of time can be incredibly difficult. Finding a family away from home makes the distance easier to deal with.

For more posts from La Vida Idealist on the eternal question of host families and homestays, check out check out “Living with Locals, for Better or Worse?” by Becca Mondshein, “Department of Homestay Security” by Kent Green, “Homestay in Rio: an Ode to Ica,” by Mehr Amin,  or “Adopting a Tico Family,” by Jen Johnson. This is Amanda’s first post with La Vida Idealist. Amanda is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

What I’ve done is quit my cushy administration job at a Seattle law firm in order to work for free for the next four months as a Volunteer Coordinator at a NGO in Buenos Aires with the hopes of finding out what it’s like to work in a foreign NGO and “learn Spanish”. Sounds like a good plan, right? I thought so. In the middle of the worst job markets my generation has ever faced, I have decided to give up my health insurance, salary and job security in order to… learn Spanish?! Just looking at the New York Times’ headlines is giving me an anxiety attack. Did I really think this through? Deep breathes, I tell myself, deep breathes.

The breathing is helping, because as I let my mind go back to its center, I reaffirm that a bad economy is no reason not to chase your dreams. I have always wondered what it would be like to work in a foreign NGO and I cannot let my fears keep me from doing what I want to do. There have been lots financial hard times and I’m in a country that knows this all too well. I will be working for an organization serving individuals who are desperately in need of adequate housing, a situation I have been fortunate enough to never have experienced personally. I calm down, fix the power cord with an ingenious use of duct tape and sit back down at my desk.

By now, my new coworker has taken notice of my predicament and asks me with a hopeful look “Vos querés mate?” I smile and laugh at myself for being upset over such minor problems. I readily accept my bitter drink, relax in my chair and try to focus on my tasks for the day.

It will be the little things that willl keep me happy and more than anything, and I’m looking forward to working with Argentines and seeing just where this adventure will take me.

Megan is currently the International Volunteer Coordinator with Habitat for Humanity Argentina. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Yes, there was a lot we didn’t know, but what we did know was that we really wanted to separate the class into boys and girls at some point to allow questions to be asked without the opposite gender present, with less fear of embarrassment. And this turned out to be an excellent idea.

Neil, another Somos Hermanos participant, took the boys outside and fielded their questions. He received some very interesting ones including: “How do you conquer a woman?” Yes, this kid did use the verb conquistar – to conquer. In a country with so much machismo, this actually didn’t surprise us too much. But it did lead us to alter our lesson plan a bit.

We already wanted to talk to the girls about self-esteem, but now we put a special emphasis on their equality to men as well as the important roles in the community they play. In a small activity, we ask the girls to write down on a card at least one physical and one non-physical characteristic they like about themselves. We always ask if anyone wants to share, and no one ever does- that is, until last week.

One girl stepped up and read her card: “I am a good daughter. I like my dark brown eyes.” She quickly sat down, blushing. I don’t think she will ever know how happy she made us. I often wonder about what we are actually accomplishing with these classes. While I don’t think these classes will make the teens use condoms when they have sex, but I like to think that we plant the seeds of ideas, begin to foster questions, or maybe even impart some knowledge. I am more than willing to stand up in front of the giggles and the immature questions from teenage boys if this means we can give them all some new ideas to think about. Like how not to conquer a woman.

Bari Laskow is a volunteer with Somos Hermanos in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

However, the first time someone, the  local reporter doing a story on volunteers working in Chilean schools,  asked me a question in Spanish, he may as well have been communicating in modern dance for as much as I could understand him. There was a pause, a moment of panic, and someone stepped in to translate. Later in the day, we had lunch with our host teacher and someone from our host family. The teacher, thank God, spoke (and speaks) great English, but my host mother, who I would be living with for my time, spoke only Spanish. During the lunch, the teacher translated between us, while I, more awkwardly than usual, tried to make small talk. It must be a bit like how diplomats feel, but presumably with added pomp. Midway through the lunch, another volunteer leaned over and asked, incredulously, “You don’t know Spanish? What students are you teaching?” To my answer, “high school,” she replied “Christ! Good luck.”

The bus ride from Valdivia, the capital of the region, to Los Lagos takes about one and a half hours through very pretty scenery on a small bus. I sat the whole time with a woman who I didn’t know, couldn’t communicate with and who was completely reliant on if I wanted to do anything.

When I arrived at the town, in the house where I would be staying during my time in Chile there were more people who tried to communicate to me in Spanish. I tried to smile and laugh at what I thought might be jokes. Eventually, they gestured to the bedroom and wondered if I was tired. I wasn’t, particularly, but I didn’t know what to do in this outrageous situation. I was completely at the mercy of these people who didn’t know English, in a small town which didn’t show up on Googlemaps, or any guidebooks, in a region that I’d never heard of, and in a country I knew very little about up until recently. I was going to be here for eight months, and hoped my weak personality would be up to the challenge of making new friends, and my weak mental capacities up to the challenge of learning a new language.

I’d never been in a situation like this before.

I tried to sleep, and hoped that when I woke up the situation would have somehow improved.

Paul Kearney is is currently living in central Chile and teaching English. He just finished up a year volunteering with Chile’s English Opens Doors program. To hear more about his experiences, check out his blog.

As Peace Corps volunteers we enter our communities for two years equipped with an entire flash drive full of resources (ideas, pre-made programs, previously used programs, workshops, talks, etc.), most of them tried and true by generations of previous Peace Corps volunteers.

Though many of these programs are excellent resources, and I have used my fair share of them, I have found that one of the more successful, sustainable ways of getting things done is not to look to what you know, but who you know.  That old adage always stands true.

To offer an example, my story goes a little bit like this. I was working with a group of high schoolers in an Art for Peace group.  One of our final projects was a very large community mural. Around the time that we were discussing ways to raise funds for paint, I coincidentally met the director of a children’s art nonprofit in the capital of San José (two hours from my community).  In talking with her about my reasons for being in Costa Rica and my responsibilities, she immediately offered to help out, and more specifically with the mural.  My goals were right in line with hers, and a little collaboration was what we were both looking for.

On location in front of our mural

The non-profit, ASART (Associación Artística para los Niños), donated all the paint for the mural, and rounded up 15 adult volunteers to work with the six youth to spend a day painting the mural on the theme of peace.  To top it all off, they arrived on the day of the mural painting with a national morning news show, Buen Día, to do a report on the collaboration between rural youth and a large city non-profit.  The youth were interviewed and filmed painting, surely something that they had not previously done in their young lives in this rural pueblo.  It was a huge success, and in the end we didn’t have to rummage up funds for paint.

Moral of the story?  Don’t just look at what you know, look at who is around you.  They know a lot more.