Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Evacuation- a long, sad story
Just in case you haven’t heard - Peace Corps Bolivia is indefinitely suspended… My service is over. I am currently back in New York, safe and sound, but truly confused and sad to the core. It is like I have been in a time warp for the past month because I feel like I just left Bolivia yesterday; in reality it has been more than an entire month. I apologize for not writing an update sooner.
What happened?
Well as you probably know Bolivia has always been a pretty unstable country, especially throughout my service. As you may have read in the news or in some of my previous blogs, in the past couple years the countries first indigenous president Evo Morales and his supporters have been in increasing conflicts and clashes with the wealthier Eastern side of the country. Although throughout my service we were constantly on alert status with 8 Emergency Action Plans and 2 consolidations in 2008 alone, most of us lived on a day-to-day basis as if this was normal. I have recently discovered that most Returned Peace Corps Volunteers do not even know what an Emergency Action Plan is. Many volunteers in Bolivia talked frequently about the possibility of us getting kicked out, but I never seriously thought it would happen and was never nervous about it until late July/early September 2008.
Throughout the (Bolivian) “winter” I began to notice tensions rising in Bolivia to a level that I hadn’t seen before. I was getting text messages about roadblocks and strikes in different areas of the country from our security advisor every morning, followed by updated emails in the afternoons. This was starting to seem like a bit much. Watching the news with my host family in the first week of September I was surprised to see uprisings in places that had been calm in the past. The day I got really nervous was when I saw images of people throwing tear gas in the plaza of Santa Cruz (my regional city). Next gangs of young crucenos were taking over all the colla (indigenous Evo supporters) businesses and offices. The building takeovers were violent, with young men breaking down doors and windows with wooden and metal planks, the workers were evicted by force, often with violent attacks and yelling. Don’t get me wrong; I had seen this on the news before, but not in Santa Cruz, my tranquillo region of the country.
Things just didn’t seem right. That week our train and all other transportation was shut down. We started to run out of fruit and vegetables and we did run out of gas (for cooking) I talked to the people in my community, where things were calm except for the more or less peaceful takeover of a couple of colla organizations and a multitude of noise makers that sounded like guns. Most of the San José community seemed worried, but not as much as they had been in previous uprisings. I was more concerned than ever.
September 11, 2008
This is the day I knew things were really bad. I was out for my morning run, when I ran into my site mate Jenny and our dog Pelusa. I stopped for a minute to chat. Jenny asked if I had seen the text message from the morning. I had not, she pulled out her phone and we read it together “FYI The US Ambassador has been declared a “persona non grata” and is being kicked out of the country”. This was the message from our country director, Kathleen. My heart began to beat faster and anxiety settled in. I think I knew this was the beginning of the end.
I went home to watch the news with my family, who agreed this wasn’t looking good, but seeing as they were much calmer than I expected, I too was temporarily calmed. I learned that the embassy was not kicked out, just the ambassador Phillip Goldberg. President Evo had declared Goldberg a persona non grata, saying that against the president’s wishes he had been meeting with the opposing parties to the government. Evo argued that Goldberg was helping the opposition gain strength in their fight for Autonomy. Evo declared that he did not like Goldberg as a person, but was not kicking out the US embassy so if we could send another ambassador that would be fine. Well it turned out that was not fine with the US government, who by later that night had in turn kicked out the Bolivian ambassador, thus breaking ties with the Bolivian governing party. That same day, Hugo Chavez, the Venezuelan president and Evo ally had followed suit and also asked their US ambassador to leave, the US proceeded to kick out the Venezuelan ambassador out as well.
Ugh… I went on and had a more or less normal day. That evening around 7 at night I got yet another text (out of office hours) that we were moving to Consolidation phase. We were to pack up our things are prepare to leave our communities. Nervously I went to meet up with Jenny, we went to Dona Rosita’s to hang out and try not to think too much about the possibilities of the next couple days. Eating pizza, drinking wine, and talking with good friends we were able to push the thoughts out of our head until we heard further information.
September 12, 2008- my last day in my community- and I didn’t know it.
Looking back I realize that I had a wonderful last day in my community. It was Patty (Deisy’s daughter) birthday and we had a celebratory family breakfast- something out of the ordinary- but so much fun. Afterward I quickly headed to one of my schools for the results of an overnight plastics competition. I was happy, taking pictures and talking to the kids about plastics and their great work. I then headed to the Alcaldia, where I met with a few of my key partners and let them know I would be leaving for an uncertain amount of time. During the course of the day there was much confusing about the consolidation- how and where we had to go and for how long? I realize that at this point Peace Corps Bolivia probably knew that we were leaving but in order to get us out of our sites they de-dramatized the situation, saying that we just all needed to be together to see how things played out. I spent the rest of the day talking to my family and friends, playing with Brooklyn and trying to get my things ready for consolidation. I think I knew that we were leaving, but because things were uncertain, I decided to try and be positive and convinced myself that I would most likely be back in a week or two. I have to note that at this point the mental stress of the situation was really setting in and making me wonder if it was best for Peace Corps to be in Bolivia or not…
We had a nice night at Sabor y Arte with friends and family, together again for Patty’s birthday. At the end of the night I gave everyone big hugs and said “see you soon”.
September 13, 2008.
7:30 I woke up and had a nice breakfast with Deisy and Negro. Although we were unsure of the outcome of the consolidation we were all trying to be positive. I took only a small bag with clothes for about a week and left my room with my most important belongings set aside and my Peace Corps property in a box. I left wondering if I would ever be back. Deisy gave me a red rose wrapped in tin foil and Anita gave me the first 2 mangoes of the season. I gave Anita and Prof. Negro big hugs- repeating as I had been the previous days- I’ll see you soon. I gave Brooklyn a kiss on the head and quickly got into Deisy’s car to not think about leaving him. Driving to the airport I got a call from Patty and Tomas saying they had seen the airplane land and wishing me luck. Hermano Melchor called Jenny and I about 5 times that day to check on us at every stage of our trip.
The Departure
10:00 We took off in a tiny plane and flew to Santa Cruz. The plane ride cost $800- pretty expensive for a organization in such debt. Flying away from San José I was anxious and nervous, thinking both about the unexpected course things can take and also the fragility of life itself. Once we got to Santa Cruz our driver Jorge was waiting for us and quickly ushered us through the small airport and drove us to the bigger one, where we boarded another plane and flew to Cochabamba. Arriving in Santa Cruz another staff member was waiting for us and quickly drove us to the hotel where half of the volunteers were waiting together. It was great to see other people and we all tried to distract each other.
3:00 We had a meeting with the country director in which she told us that we would be waiting to see what happened in the next days. She warned us of possible retaliations that might make it necessary for us to change locations. We were told that this probably wouldn’t happen until Monday, and that we had to be ready the next morning to move our stuff into a bigger hotel with all of the rest of the volunteers.
The night of September 13th was the worst in the history of my life. None of the already sleep deprived volunteers were sleeping in Cochabamba. And then I got a call that my boyfriend’s family had just experienced the most terrible tragedy. I spent the whole night crying and praying in bed with my good friend Jamel and woke the next morning to find the world had changed even more than we thought.
September 14, 2008
7:00 We woke up and loaded our bags into the front of the hotel and headed to the morning meeting with the director. I noticed as she came into the room that she would not start until everyone was present, and the medical officer came in with a huge box. With a quivering voice Kathleen told us that in fact we were not going to be moving to another hotel but we were headed for the airport right away. We would be traveling to Lima, Peru immediately. Tears welled up in eyes all around me, including Kathleen’s. She warned us that our security was in danger and that we were not to tell anyone, including our families or even the other Peace Corps Volunteers where we were headed. I went outside and broke down in tears…tears of sadness, relief and uncertainty. This was it, I knew it. I also knew that I needed to be home with Chris and for some reason I was being taken out of the country, at a time when I would not have been able to get out of Bolivia on my own.
8:00am Because of all of the uprisings around the country, there had not been any international flights for about a week , so on our way to the airport we wondered what we would meet. The airport felt deserted, there were few others there besides us. People were trying to take pictures, but most of us couldn’t stop crying. I exchanged the thousands of Bolivianos that I had with me for a couple hundred dollars, knowing that I might need that in order to get home. I talked persistently with all of the staff, urging them that I needed to get home. I felt bad because their hands were full with the whole situation, but I needed to leave South America.
10:00am We boarded a huge military plane and strapped ourselves in. I was so happy to see my good friend Josh and sat next to him and Jamel the whole long bumpy ride. The flight was full of long, sad faces and not much talking. When we arrived in Lima the US embassy staff there greeted us compassionately. They kissed us all on the cheek and shook our hands. They really made us feel welcome and as if maybe everything was going to be okay. After hearing my situation, one of the embassy officials offered to help me arrange how to get home and even took me back to his house for dinner before my flight. I was amazed by their warmth and care for all of us.
1:00pm I said my distracted goodbyes to the volunteers around amidst the confusion and I headed off for the officials house, meanwhile the rest of the volunteers boarded onto 2 buses heading for a hotel in Lima.
11:50pm I boarded a plane headed for New York JFK
September 15
8:00 am I was back in NY with Chris.
So that’s the story… it’s long and sad. I have been trying to make some sense of the strange and sudden changes in my life, but I really cannot. I am happy that I do feel a sense of accomplishment from my service. I am so happy that things came together with my plastics project in the end, and that I was able to make so many amazing relationships in my community. It is the people that I think of and miss the most… the simple things, a shared cafesito and cunape, lunch with my family, chatting with Anita in the tienda, teaching English in the high school, my Spanish lessons with Hermano Melchor, my runs in the jungle/desert, visiting my neighborhood friends. The past year and a half of my life has changed me in such a good way. I have learned so much and am so incredibly grateful for my experience. They always say in Peace Corps you never know what a day can bring… and that sure is the truth. This was “the hardest job I’ll ever love” and a life that I will carry with me always.
What happened?
Well as you probably know Bolivia has always been a pretty unstable country, especially throughout my service. As you may have read in the news or in some of my previous blogs, in the past couple years the countries first indigenous president Evo Morales and his supporters have been in increasing conflicts and clashes with the wealthier Eastern side of the country. Although throughout my service we were constantly on alert status with 8 Emergency Action Plans and 2 consolidations in 2008 alone, most of us lived on a day-to-day basis as if this was normal. I have recently discovered that most Returned Peace Corps Volunteers do not even know what an Emergency Action Plan is. Many volunteers in Bolivia talked frequently about the possibility of us getting kicked out, but I never seriously thought it would happen and was never nervous about it until late July/early September 2008.
Throughout the (Bolivian) “winter” I began to notice tensions rising in Bolivia to a level that I hadn’t seen before. I was getting text messages about roadblocks and strikes in different areas of the country from our security advisor every morning, followed by updated emails in the afternoons. This was starting to seem like a bit much. Watching the news with my host family in the first week of September I was surprised to see uprisings in places that had been calm in the past. The day I got really nervous was when I saw images of people throwing tear gas in the plaza of Santa Cruz (my regional city). Next gangs of young crucenos were taking over all the colla (indigenous Evo supporters) businesses and offices. The building takeovers were violent, with young men breaking down doors and windows with wooden and metal planks, the workers were evicted by force, often with violent attacks and yelling. Don’t get me wrong; I had seen this on the news before, but not in Santa Cruz, my tranquillo region of the country.
Things just didn’t seem right. That week our train and all other transportation was shut down. We started to run out of fruit and vegetables and we did run out of gas (for cooking) I talked to the people in my community, where things were calm except for the more or less peaceful takeover of a couple of colla organizations and a multitude of noise makers that sounded like guns. Most of the San José community seemed worried, but not as much as they had been in previous uprisings. I was more concerned than ever.
September 11, 2008
This is the day I knew things were really bad. I was out for my morning run, when I ran into my site mate Jenny and our dog Pelusa. I stopped for a minute to chat. Jenny asked if I had seen the text message from the morning. I had not, she pulled out her phone and we read it together “FYI The US Ambassador has been declared a “persona non grata” and is being kicked out of the country”. This was the message from our country director, Kathleen. My heart began to beat faster and anxiety settled in. I think I knew this was the beginning of the end.
I went home to watch the news with my family, who agreed this wasn’t looking good, but seeing as they were much calmer than I expected, I too was temporarily calmed. I learned that the embassy was not kicked out, just the ambassador Phillip Goldberg. President Evo had declared Goldberg a persona non grata, saying that against the president’s wishes he had been meeting with the opposing parties to the government. Evo argued that Goldberg was helping the opposition gain strength in their fight for Autonomy. Evo declared that he did not like Goldberg as a person, but was not kicking out the US embassy so if we could send another ambassador that would be fine. Well it turned out that was not fine with the US government, who by later that night had in turn kicked out the Bolivian ambassador, thus breaking ties with the Bolivian governing party. That same day, Hugo Chavez, the Venezuelan president and Evo ally had followed suit and also asked their US ambassador to leave, the US proceeded to kick out the Venezuelan ambassador out as well.
Ugh… I went on and had a more or less normal day. That evening around 7 at night I got yet another text (out of office hours) that we were moving to Consolidation phase. We were to pack up our things are prepare to leave our communities. Nervously I went to meet up with Jenny, we went to Dona Rosita’s to hang out and try not to think too much about the possibilities of the next couple days. Eating pizza, drinking wine, and talking with good friends we were able to push the thoughts out of our head until we heard further information.
September 12, 2008- my last day in my community- and I didn’t know it.
Looking back I realize that I had a wonderful last day in my community. It was Patty (Deisy’s daughter) birthday and we had a celebratory family breakfast- something out of the ordinary- but so much fun. Afterward I quickly headed to one of my schools for the results of an overnight plastics competition. I was happy, taking pictures and talking to the kids about plastics and their great work. I then headed to the Alcaldia, where I met with a few of my key partners and let them know I would be leaving for an uncertain amount of time. During the course of the day there was much confusing about the consolidation- how and where we had to go and for how long? I realize that at this point Peace Corps Bolivia probably knew that we were leaving but in order to get us out of our sites they de-dramatized the situation, saying that we just all needed to be together to see how things played out. I spent the rest of the day talking to my family and friends, playing with Brooklyn and trying to get my things ready for consolidation. I think I knew that we were leaving, but because things were uncertain, I decided to try and be positive and convinced myself that I would most likely be back in a week or two. I have to note that at this point the mental stress of the situation was really setting in and making me wonder if it was best for Peace Corps to be in Bolivia or not…
We had a nice night at Sabor y Arte with friends and family, together again for Patty’s birthday. At the end of the night I gave everyone big hugs and said “see you soon”.
September 13, 2008.
7:30 I woke up and had a nice breakfast with Deisy and Negro. Although we were unsure of the outcome of the consolidation we were all trying to be positive. I took only a small bag with clothes for about a week and left my room with my most important belongings set aside and my Peace Corps property in a box. I left wondering if I would ever be back. Deisy gave me a red rose wrapped in tin foil and Anita gave me the first 2 mangoes of the season. I gave Anita and Prof. Negro big hugs- repeating as I had been the previous days- I’ll see you soon. I gave Brooklyn a kiss on the head and quickly got into Deisy’s car to not think about leaving him. Driving to the airport I got a call from Patty and Tomas saying they had seen the airplane land and wishing me luck. Hermano Melchor called Jenny and I about 5 times that day to check on us at every stage of our trip.
The Departure
10:00 We took off in a tiny plane and flew to Santa Cruz. The plane ride cost $800- pretty expensive for a organization in such debt. Flying away from San José I was anxious and nervous, thinking both about the unexpected course things can take and also the fragility of life itself. Once we got to Santa Cruz our driver Jorge was waiting for us and quickly ushered us through the small airport and drove us to the bigger one, where we boarded another plane and flew to Cochabamba. Arriving in Santa Cruz another staff member was waiting for us and quickly drove us to the hotel where half of the volunteers were waiting together. It was great to see other people and we all tried to distract each other.
3:00 We had a meeting with the country director in which she told us that we would be waiting to see what happened in the next days. She warned us of possible retaliations that might make it necessary for us to change locations. We were told that this probably wouldn’t happen until Monday, and that we had to be ready the next morning to move our stuff into a bigger hotel with all of the rest of the volunteers.
The night of September 13th was the worst in the history of my life. None of the already sleep deprived volunteers were sleeping in Cochabamba. And then I got a call that my boyfriend’s family had just experienced the most terrible tragedy. I spent the whole night crying and praying in bed with my good friend Jamel and woke the next morning to find the world had changed even more than we thought.
September 14, 2008
7:00 We woke up and loaded our bags into the front of the hotel and headed to the morning meeting with the director. I noticed as she came into the room that she would not start until everyone was present, and the medical officer came in with a huge box. With a quivering voice Kathleen told us that in fact we were not going to be moving to another hotel but we were headed for the airport right away. We would be traveling to Lima, Peru immediately. Tears welled up in eyes all around me, including Kathleen’s. She warned us that our security was in danger and that we were not to tell anyone, including our families or even the other Peace Corps Volunteers where we were headed. I went outside and broke down in tears…tears of sadness, relief and uncertainty. This was it, I knew it. I also knew that I needed to be home with Chris and for some reason I was being taken out of the country, at a time when I would not have been able to get out of Bolivia on my own.
8:00am Because of all of the uprisings around the country, there had not been any international flights for about a week , so on our way to the airport we wondered what we would meet. The airport felt deserted, there were few others there besides us. People were trying to take pictures, but most of us couldn’t stop crying. I exchanged the thousands of Bolivianos that I had with me for a couple hundred dollars, knowing that I might need that in order to get home. I talked persistently with all of the staff, urging them that I needed to get home. I felt bad because their hands were full with the whole situation, but I needed to leave South America.
10:00am We boarded a huge military plane and strapped ourselves in. I was so happy to see my good friend Josh and sat next to him and Jamel the whole long bumpy ride. The flight was full of long, sad faces and not much talking. When we arrived in Lima the US embassy staff there greeted us compassionately. They kissed us all on the cheek and shook our hands. They really made us feel welcome and as if maybe everything was going to be okay. After hearing my situation, one of the embassy officials offered to help me arrange how to get home and even took me back to his house for dinner before my flight. I was amazed by their warmth and care for all of us.
1:00pm I said my distracted goodbyes to the volunteers around amidst the confusion and I headed off for the officials house, meanwhile the rest of the volunteers boarded onto 2 buses heading for a hotel in Lima.
11:50pm I boarded a plane headed for New York JFK
September 15
8:00 am I was back in NY with Chris.
So that’s the story… it’s long and sad. I have been trying to make some sense of the strange and sudden changes in my life, but I really cannot. I am happy that I do feel a sense of accomplishment from my service. I am so happy that things came together with my plastics project in the end, and that I was able to make so many amazing relationships in my community. It is the people that I think of and miss the most… the simple things, a shared cafesito and cunape, lunch with my family, chatting with Anita in the tienda, teaching English in the high school, my Spanish lessons with Hermano Melchor, my runs in the jungle/desert, visiting my neighborhood friends. The past year and a half of my life has changed me in such a good way. I have learned so much and am so incredibly grateful for my experience. They always say in Peace Corps you never know what a day can bring… and that sure is the truth. This was “the hardest job I’ll ever love” and a life that I will carry with me always.
Friday, September 26, 2008
My kids
Teaching high school English to the segundo medios (equivalent to our sophmores) changed my service. Below are the pictures of the kids who brightened my days, made me laugh and taught me how to be a good teacher. I went into teaching at the Marista school primarily to help out my Spanish tutor and friend Hermano Melchor, but I found that I loved teaching and learned so much from the experience.
Not having prior teaching experience everything I did in class was somewhat of an experiment, but overall things went very well. Most of my teaching style came from my own experience at a charter elementary school. I found myself remembering exercises and ways that my elementary teachers engaged us to make learning fun. I started every class with a listening exercise, in which I talked about something while the kids looked at me with wide, open eyes like I was an alien. I asked them to try and write down words that they recognized when I spoke. The short speech was usually followed by laughter and confusion... but as the classes went on the kids always increased the number of words understood. We played games with vocab such as charades, bingo and word races. Another favorite activity was also from ANLC, a "morning message"- a mixed up message with mispelled words for them to correct. Truthfully I don't know who learned more from my English classes, my kids or myself... but I know that we all benefited from the experience and had fun while doing it.
Take a look at my kids... you may find that you have a namesake!
Not having prior teaching experience everything I did in class was somewhat of an experiment, but overall things went very well. Most of my teaching style came from my own experience at a charter elementary school. I found myself remembering exercises and ways that my elementary teachers engaged us to make learning fun. I started every class with a listening exercise, in which I talked about something while the kids looked at me with wide, open eyes like I was an alien. I asked them to try and write down words that they recognized when I spoke. The short speech was usually followed by laughter and confusion... but as the classes went on the kids always increased the number of words understood. We played games with vocab such as charades, bingo and word races. Another favorite activity was also from ANLC, a "morning message"- a mixed up message with mispelled words for them to correct. Truthfully I don't know who learned more from my English classes, my kids or myself... but I know that we all benefited from the experience and had fun while doing it.
Take a look at my kids... you may find that you have a namesake!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
