The start of something...

Special big bag delivery


They really are big!


This week I worked hard distributing my big bags for the recycling project. I visited every school and animated the teachers, students, doormen and principals. All of the schools received the bags excitedly and are now working on accumulating their plastics. Luckily with the gringa discount I got on the bags, we were able to buy 10 soccer balls and 10 basket balls- just enough for one of each for each school. Most schools are now animating the students with a competition with the balls as a surprise prize for the class that brings in the most. It was a long, tiring week, but in a great way. I am happy to finally be busy with work and to have so many different people to work with. I also have been in campaigning through the different forms of communication- this means local television interviews, and educational propaganda as well as talking on the local radio stations. I am working my hardest to get our message out to the community:

My main goals with the project:

1. To help eliminate the quantity of trash in our pueblo.
2. To stop the burning of plastic trash- which releases chemicals toxic to our health.
3. To help the schools create an on-going ecological fundraiser for their needs.

“Las Misses”

We had a very exciting weekend in San José- “Las Misses” came to visit. “Las Misses” – English word pronounced with a camba accent are all of the contestants vying for Miss. Bolivia. The town rallied like never before to prepare for the event. The streets were cleaned, (well at least the dirt was plowed and trash covered up), there were 5 women sweeping the plaza for 3 days nonstop before the arrival, every group was preparing some kind of presentation or another. We even had an hourly countdown on tv! The night before, our awesome local anchorman announced “ Only 30 hours until Las Misses arrive… Dona Esta is painting her house- pan to a house being painted- why don’t we all paint our houses? If you don’t have paint now- wake up early and do it tomorrow!” It was pretty ridiculous- but also let me know how much people appreciate physical beauty in this culture. When the women actually got here, it was a 4 day parade around the city- the tall, skinny women with long hair and white smiles, in high heels and mini dresses, followed by our political figures, teachers, students and local film crews. We had almost 24 hour television coverage of the weekend. The reason for their arrival was the crowning of “Miss Talento Bolivia”. Saturday night, the plaza was filled with more people than ever before. Although not many people came out for the musical talents from around the world during the Baroque music festival, put on some regaaeton and bring out women in short dresses and the whole town is there- and early- that is pop culture for you, even way our here in our pueblo. Not expecting such a huge turn out or things to start on time, my friends and I were only able to see by climbing up wooden planks we set against the shaky wooden bleachers. It was an enjoyable night of a mixture of talents ranging from traditional dances, to a girl doing a clown routine. The winner- a top notch lip-syncer. Definitely an unforgettable weekend for the Josesanos.

Miss Talento night!


Strutting through our dirt calles


Fancy canapes I helped Dona Rosita prepare for the event

Los Segundo Medios

This week I also started teaching all of the sophomores in the Marist high school. I have 4 classes of 35 students each. All of them have names so similar that it was super hard for me to keep them straight, so I decided to have them choose “American” names. I wrote a list of the names of all of my favorite people- my friends and family, so now most of you that are reading this probably have a namesake or two in San Jose! I’ll take a picture soon. So far they have been pretty good, but of course they are high-schoolers. It makes me laugh and think back to my Gabriel Richard days, when I see the different characters in the class. Today, someone put a giant green grasshopper down the shirt of another, the kid was running around screaming, trying to take off his shirt and everyone else laughing hilariously- I am trying my best to be professional- but how could I not laugh at that? These kids are definitely the most entertaining part of my life at the moment… and I promise to keep the stories coming.

La Palabra... (a word from my mother!)

Here is a reflection written my Mama on their trip to visit me in May... enjoy!!!!!!!
PS- Since I was so slow at updating the blog in the last 2 months, I recommend you scroll down to the last part you read and read up- i promise it will make more sense that way.

PPS- There are photos and more to come from my parents soon.

Peter and I spent 2 amazing weeks in Bolivia at the end of April. Anna lives in the Chiquitania region, a remote tropical region with cattle farms accessed mainly by rutted dirt roads. This region is home to beautiful churches built during the brief Jesuit period before the priests were expelled in 1767. We timed our trip for the biennial Chiquitania Baroque Music Festival. So, we traveled to many of the mission churches and heard sacred and divine music played by amateurs and professionals from the region and from around the world. We were thrilled by the local school orchestra as we were by Israeli, Swiss and British musicians. Some of the music performed was composed in the Chiquitania during the 18th century.

While the Music Festival was the backdrop, the main purpose of the trip was to be with Anna and to learn more about her life as a Peace Corp volunteer in this distant and impoverished part of the world. We arrived at a moment when Anna was frustrated with the lack of progress on her plastic recycling project and considering moving to another site. Nonetheless to us, our daughter looked happy and strong. We particularly enjoyed meeting her many, many friends and acquaintances. During the first 2 days in Santa Cruz, a city a 7-hour train ride from Anna’s home, we were amazed by how many people Anna knew. We were delighted by an invitation to have tea with the extended family of Anna’s landlady. And, we had dinner with Tom and Anna Sullivan, Peace Corps friends who live and work in a town called Okinawa. Yes, it was settled by Japanese after World War II. Anna was a great tour guide and she speaks Spanish! You should have seen her negotiate the price with the driver who took us through the back roads of Chiquitania for our Baroque Music Festival Tour. She looks sweet but she drives a mean bargain.

The countryside in the southeastern lowlands is very pretty. We were there at the end of the rainy season and it was lush. Bolivia has more butterflies than anyplace that I have ever been in my life. During our first weekend in the city, we went to a butterfly conservatory and saw some beautiful specimens. But you don’t need to go to a conservatory to see butterflies. They are everywhere!

In San Jose de Chiquitos, we stayed in Anna’s rooms. She gave up her bed for us and so we slept under a DEET-impregnated bed-tent for the first time in our lives. The area is not high-risk for malaria, but Peace Corps supplies the bed tents and they do keep other critters out of the bed. Anna’s house is very pretty. She painted her rooms in blues and greens and decorated with lots of pictures of friends from home. The central courtyard is full of flowers and at the time of our visit there were 2 parrots in cages and a dog with a new litter of puppies. While it is very comfortable, it’s still not quite like back home. Anna filters all of her water; her shower was not working (blocked with leaves and dirt); one of her electrical outlets caught on fire while we were cooking breakfast one morning; and there is no heating or air conditioning. Actually, what I have appreciated most about the US since coming home is tap water. Tap water in the US is delicious, healthy, free and available almost anywhere. Let’s bring back those water fountains!

We were so busy in San Jose de Chiquitos. In addition to the baroque concerts, there was the annual San Jose festival complete with traditional dancing and parades. We enjoyed meeting some of the people Anna works with and went to the dedication of the new hospital. We had a delightful time helping Anna teach basic hygiene to kindergartners at a local school. A highlight of the trip was touring the church in San Jose de Chiquitos with a Bolivian art historian supervising the reconstruction of the church as a UNESCO site. Anna knows him from the Environmental Committee that she serves on.

So many experiences in Bolivia were unexpected. Try to imagine being awakened at 4 in the morning by the sound of a military band playing below the hotel window. This took place in Santiago, a remote and pretty village 2 hours from Anna’s town. A musical group from Columbia had made the long journey to play ancient music in the church. They were warmly welcomed on a cold night by soldiers lining the streets and the town square holding torches to light their way and a military brass and percussion band that played on and on. Above their doorway, the hotel hung a huge welcome sign made from cardboard boxes and tissue paper with candles for illumination.

On the last day of our trip, there was a referendum on “autonomia” in the Santa Cruz department. There was great excitement about the possibility of becoming more autonomous from the national government with more ability to keep resources in the region. On the day of the vote, we stayed at our hotel because nothing was open except the polls. All stores, restaurants, and businesses were closed. The buses and taxis were not running. The region voted overwhelmingly in favor of “autonomia”. That evening at 6 pm everything opened and people were out and about in a celebratory mood. We attended one last Baroque music festival before heading for home.

We only saw a small corner of Bolivia, but were impressed by the beauty of the country and the warmth of the people. We saw how hard life is for the majority, and are less likely to take our comforts for granted. For me, Bolivia is the land of surprises and I can’t wait to return.

NOVEDADES!!! NEWS!

Good News! After 8 months of lack of work, things are popping up all over the place. Last Wednesday, on my way to Santa Cruz someone from the Alcaldia met me at the train station. My recycling project was finally approved. The guy stuffed 2,000 Boliviano's in 100 b notes into my duffel bag, and I was off to purchase the long awaited bags. The bags that I bought are large, durable bags that are necessary for the storage and transportation of the plastic bottles, bags and other items that we will be collecting. Each school and barrio (neighborhood) will receive their own bag and once they have collected enough we will send the plastics to Santa Cruz, where a recycling company will pay us for the materials. We have worked out an agreement with the train for free transportation for the project. So basically, the only real need we had was these bags, and after 8 months we finally have them! Yayyyyyyyy! The purchase was interesting; I once again had the name and shaky directions to what seemed to be an underground company. When a pirate-y man with one leg answered the door I was very happy that our helpful Peace Corps driver Hermel had accompanied me on the mission. I was pleased to find that the pirate was only the doorman, and let us in to a nice office, where we had a meeting with the friendly owner. The owner seemed to like me and the project so much he gave me 600 bs off the original price! I am hoping to be able to use this money for another project. A half an hour and less the wad of cash later we drove away with the Land rover full of my bags. Finally! This week I start distributing the bags to interested people and educating about the project. Also I am starting to teach the Segundo Medicos- Sophomore English classes at the Marista School. I will be the English teacher for the Second Semester, which starts this Monday and continues until before Christmas… Profe Ani!

B45 gets smaller.

So we heard it since we got here, statistically every group loses about 5 people. Since day one I thought B45 was different- I thought we would all make it. We just hit number 5. Every person that leaves is greatly missed, and leaves a void in our group that cannot be filled.
In training we lost Meera, not too long after we started… then after Christmas Hannah, then Gilbert and Barbara, and now this past week Brandon….. B45 misses you all! Below I have posted the Swear- In Speech written and delivered by our friend Brandon. It was something I meant to post when we swore in… but here it is now. It really shows how much our fellow group members and other volunteers mean to us. It is interesting to read now, and think of how much we have changed and learned during the past year.

I am a donut.

I am a jelly donut.

This is what John F. Kennedy, the founder of Peace Corps, said to the German people when he visited them in June of 1963. Ich bin ein Berliner. Later linguists and historians de-bunked the rumor as simply myth. But the fact remains that what he said could be misinterpreted as something silly, outlandish, and downright ridiculous.

Yo quiero TWO sin chorizo.

I actually said that to a waitress in a restaurant in Quillacollo. Her reaction was of course one of surprise and disgust. She gave me one of those looks that said, “ummm…what?” or in Spanish, “ayyyy…Que?” She followed that up with a quick about face and a flip of the hair that reassured me that I had committed some sort of massive, egregious error. When I turned to my friends who were accompanying me during this particular meal of food I saw that they were all laughing. Good, strong, gut laughing. They informed me of my mistake and I joined in the laugh fest as well. Of course, what I meant to say was:

Yo Quiero DOS sin chorizo.

I had transposed the words for the number two and changed completely the meaning of what I was trying to say. I wanted two orders of papas fritas without sausage, but what I actually said was, “I want YOU without sausage.”

I want YOU without sausage. That had to have been the weirdest pick-up line that poor waitress had ever heard.

How crystal clear these examples are of communication breakdowns. Big, bold communication errors harmlessly and accidentally made that completely change the meaning of a particular phrase or message.

I rest assured, however, that I am not the first nor will I be the last volunteer in Bolivia or Peace Corps Worldwide for that matter to make such an error. It’s hard enough to maintain open channels of communication and understand each other in English let alone try to communicate with someone of a completely different cultural upbringing and background.

We’re going to encounter all kinds of communication errors and faux pas during our travels, our work, and in our lives in general over the next two years. Even you advanced language peeps sometimes forget how to correctly conjugate the past participle pluperfect future preterite of haber or the Spanish word for “sheep.”

It’s obeja, by the way. And there’s no conjugation for the past participle pluperfect future preterite of haber. That was a trick question.

But we’re trying. And this is our charge. This is our task. Communicate. Listen. Learn. Change people’s fundamental ideas and ways of doing things that they may have potentially been doing for centuries upon centuries before.

US!!

Who are we? What gives us the right or the authority? Nobody except the people of Bolivia can grant us the authority to enter their sovereign land and live her for two years. And they’ve done so more or less.

But there’s a cost for us- an obvious one that we’re all aware of. A sacrifice we have knowingly accepted. But, as with all things there’s an upside to this too. Being here definitely makes me appreciate the things that we have in the United States that I usually take for granted. I think of the U.S. as my little brother when I’m here. No one but me can talk smack about him. But being here also makes me yearn for the simpler way of doing things. The things and places and people I’ve seen already in just my first three months have amazed me beyond words. I’m constantly questioning our presence here. These people seem more at peace than 90% of the people in the United States. Things sometimes don’t really seem that depressed or tragic. There’s not an overabundance of cellphones and Escalades. Not an oversaturation of beer ads with five girls and one guy all of whom spend nearly ever waking hour in a gym, not actually drinking the product their advertising. There’s not a lot of advertising here in general. Television isn’t omnipresent with a message of buy, buy, buy. The people in the campo, I think, have more to teach us about living than we have to teach them.

But there are things we can teach them. There are simple things that we can show them that will improve their quality of life and the quality of life for their children and their children’s children. I’m not asking them to dress like me or listen to the music I listen to. I don’t want to Americanize them. I don’t want to corrupt them. I just want to tweak them. I just want to help. I think we all just want to help.

The stark differences between the people in the campo and the people in the cities is a harsh reality, but one that fascinates me. I love being a spectator here in this country. And that’s exactly what we’ve been for the first three months of our service. Spectators. We’ve been molly coddled and led by the hand; introduced to the necessary contacts and shown which buses and trufis to take.

But now we’re about to take on a completely different role. A role of action. A role of change. A metamorphosis. We’re about to emerge from our cocoon like shells. We’re no longer slothy, gluttonous caterpillars. We’re now attack butterflies. Lean, mean butterflies with fangs dripping with developmental venom. Butterflies with unlimited knowledge ammunition. And most importantly we’re butterflies that are strapped to the hilt with patience and understanding.

I couldn’t think of 27 more capable people to take this challenge head-on. Sometimes, in fact, I feel completely overwhelmed and intimidated by the experience and talent gathered here in this room. We’ve got doctors and engineers. Teachers and laborers and E.M.T.’s. We’ve got people that have never flunked a test until they met Javier. We’ve got people born in other countries, people who have seen the benefits that brave immigrant parents have received and want to give back to the world. We’ve got people that have lived abroad for large portions of their life. We’ve got brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers and everything between. We’ve got Amber. We’ve been trained and have had the privilege to work shoulder to shoulder with people that have dedicated their entire lives to development work. We’ve got people that have memorized entire sections of movies, a guy that can sing melodies acapella that make angels swoon and puts Michael Bubble to shame. I know, it’s Buble. We’ve got a man that when he had only 7 years to his name wondered what it would have been like to live in Communist Russia. We’ve got two Sarahs, two Annas and Hannah. An Erin, an Aaron and a dude that’s technically only 6 years old. Tristan looks great in a speedo. We’ve got west coast peeps that are all, “And he was all, and she was all.” We’ve got meteorological experts, yoga specialists, hug specialists, Queen Amidallah impersonators, graduates of The Ohio State University and a Nubian princess whose smile can shift my inner mountains and alter my current outlook from rainy, damp and dreary, to bright, revamped and seriously cheery. What an inspiration! What a revelation! What?

And then there’s little old me. Lodged in between all of these giant personalities- pillars of strength and fortitude, overwhelmed and humbled. I couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t be more content. I couldn’t be more elated to count myself as your friend and work partner.

Sometimes, a metaphorical anvil of realization drops on my head and I’m awash with warm fuzzies and soft suds of sentiment that feels like my whole body is a giant mouth chewing spearmint.

It’s fresh and crisp and I know this is my place deep in my capillaries. I see it every time I look at you. I see it reflected in your faces. I see it when you laugh. I feel it. I hear it. You are the most intelligent, inspirational, insanely weird in a good way people I have encountered in my life…ever. I know you intimately after only 90 days, but I want to know more. I want to be around all of you all the time. Your combined charisma and extrovertedness make Barak Obama look like Howard Hughes in his later years.

What a privilege we have here, guys. We get to hear ancient languages and dialects and interact with direct descendants of the Incan empire. We get to change people’s lives. That’s your job, no mas. And in the process we’re going to learn so much about ourselves and the world. All you have to do is understand that right now we’re like empty hard drives waiting to be filled with data and information. Be open. Listen. Watch. Observe. Be a “Quiet American.” Don’t be like Graham Greene’s quiet American though.

Maintain your composure. Find ways to always have a smile on your face. Go to your happy place. In the past my method was to completely close off everything to everyone literally and figuratively. I close my eyes. I would close my mouth and breathe through my nose. I put my iPod buds in my ears and go away for a moment. But then I come back refreshed and rejuvenated.

Now I don’t even need that. I’ve got a variety of options at my disposal to flip the switch on the sitch that I can’t pull my mind out of. I can simply have a conversation with one of you guys or recite a line from a Chris Farley movie and I’m right back in touch. Any one of you can flip my mood 180 degrees. I’ve never been in an environment like this before. It’s like I’m riding a constant crowd surfing wave, fully confident that I’m not going to be dropped. It’s like floating on a cloud made of hands. I’ve lost weight because I’m laughing so hard all the time. My abs are constantly sore. It’s a good sore though.

And I am going to miss that so much. So much. I’ll miss all of your bright shiny faces and individual, unique laughters. I’ll miss your thoughts and opinions. I’ll miss your minds and intellects. But I’ve got each and everyone of you stored away in my mind so that I can access you at anytime and relive moments that we’ve shared. For now, we have to depart. We have to shed the Stars and Stripes and don the Rojo, Amarillo, y Verde. We have to say goodbye to each other, to our new family, and say hello to a community that needs us.

We have to fan out across this vast nation like individual robotic lions. We can’t be Voltron right now. But if Voltron is ever needed you know that you can make the call and the team will assemble without hesitation, without question, without thought. We’ll unite with fangs of truth bared, swords of justice ready, and souls centered and steady. I’m here for you. I know you all are there for me and for each other. And that’s a beautiful thing.

Let’s put a smile on the statue of liberty’s face. She’s been frowning for far too long.

Stay classy B-45.

Let’s do this.

DUM DE DUM DUMMMM... back to BOLIVIA

I arrived back in Bolivia and felt the culture shock run through my body. I couldn’t stay in Santa Cruz, and left immediately for San José. It was dreary weather and I was super homesick… it was definitely a hard transition back- I kept thinking, if I just went home… where am I now. It felt so weird that I knew so many people here and that I had spent so much time here. Thank goodness for Brooklyn and my friends from Argentina- Santiago and Clara, the three of them really pulled my out of the slump and back into reality. Reality is that being here is hard, super hard, but good for me. I am learning things, and helping people. I have passed the one-year point, so it is really starting to be more like a countdown than counting the months… I need to use this time wisely and take advantage of it in many ways. Okay… one day at a time.

A couple of things that help pass the hard days... funny dances, kids, my friends clara and santiago, cooking/hanging with my sitemate jenny!