Goodbye is just another word

It´s been a month and a half since I have left Bolivia, two months and a day since my life was turned up side down, and a revolution from what felt like utter darkness to at least a little bit of light.

I know it´s not a proper goodbye, but then again, I first of all don´t like goodbyes and therefore think that see you later is a better term - so...See you later....

I want to thank all the amazing people who have made my journey to finding a deeper meaning of who I am so much more great, the people who I met along the way, who inspired me to be greater than my own dreams.....

I want to thank my hoast family: mi familia boliviana - no hay palabras que expresan mi cariño y gratitud hacia ustedes y todo lo que han hecho por mi, el amor que me han dado por el año y tres meses que estuve viviendo con ustedes. No hay nada más bonito que sentirse aceptado en un hogar, y yo he encontrado un lugar entre ustedes. Muchas gracias. Les querré por siempre.

I want to thank my boss, Julian: Julian, no solamente fuiste mi jefe, sino mi mentor, mi amigo, y mi inspirador por buscar lo bueno en el mundo. Gracias por toda tu paciencia y tu corazón tan inmensamente grande. Siempre serás un ejemplo por mi

I want to thank the team of amazing people from arterias, that showed me how important it is to stand up and say what I feel, and to make compromizes.

Thank you to the team of just as amazing people from Plataforma, who taught me that love and kindness is what this world should be about, no matter whether you say that it is a mean violent place or not, that people are evil or not.

It should be everyone´s goal to stand up and give hugs to people, to show love, not to have to hide. 

To give AND receive love.

Repeat.Again.

Up. Down. Left. Right. Forward. Backwards. Forward. Repeat. Again.

It´s hard to summarize the past month with so much confusion, so much that at the same time is so little. Going to Comarapa was like finding a piece of rainbow colors in the middle of a storm, just to realize that nothing had changed in the real, normal world.

It is a challenge to change the routine of every day, it is a challenge to start something new, and it is a challenge to keep going with this new thing. It is a challenge to end something that was such a big part of the routine.

Nevertheless, I have managed to set up a (more or less) concrete plan for the next two months  so that the days don´t go by meaningless. One of the last weekends I took part in a film project with the goal of creating a short film in 48 hours. The project is called the 48 Hour Film Project and is a really fun thing to do. It´s organized all over the world and friends of mine took part, inviting me. I ended up acting, something completely new for me, but a great experience. Apart from the fact that being in front of the camera is different from being behind it, a movie is also a much more complex world than photography. Not only is the movement of the subject - the actor - crucial, the angle, lighting, movement of camera, and the whole surrounding matter as well. An unexpected sound can ruin a whole scene, a bystander crossing the set unknowingly as well,  and it takes many tries and a lot of patience to get a take right. Even though my friends are not professional film makers and the camera men they had found were more experienced in documentaries, adding the fact that we only had 2 days to write, film and edit, our short film of 7 minutes turned out pretty well. I had a lot of fun and made new friends, which is the most important thing of all.

Even though it´s a process that might never finish up in a complete project, I have tried to inspire about 6 teens to think about their future, about their purpose in life, about what they believe and don´t believe. I want them to think about what they want to achieve. But the first step to think about these questions is to sit down and take the time. An it´s not easy to analyze oneself. I have answered the questions and it took me a while to find an answer to some of the questions.

Apart from my personal project, we have been organizing a group of volunteers within Plataforma, mostly with the teens. Through workshops and different activities, we want them to reach out to others, to learn to be responsible, and to understand how to work as a team. Using different games and dynamics, we want them to grow into leaders themselves. Yesterday, we went to the botanical garden to take a break from normality and enjoy the weather. Using the time together, we worked on trust, self esteem, and team spirit. It was so necessary to get new inspiration, to rediscover some activities that I had done a long time ago, and to spend time with my coworkers. We made a video showing the different nationalities of the volunteers in Plataforma and had a great time making mistakes and saying silly things on purpose. Even though dead tired, I had a good time.

It´s been a nice change of pace to go dancing on the weekends, something that I hardly did before. It´s been nice to make plans for every day of the week with someone else. It made me happy to see my friend Lesshy who now moved, but who wanted to spend some time with me before she left. It is nice to know that people care, that all the love that I have tried to give now comes back to me one way or another.

It is the moments that make you laugh, the moments of driving from one end of the city to the other with ten people piled in one car, tired and exhausted form a day of work, with about half of the work to still be done, but at the same time happy because it´s the friendship that matters, it´s working together and being proud of the results. It´s fooling around with the guitar and being told to keep playing because it´s beautiful, and being told that you´re adored even though you´ve only met that person a day. Life is the small things that make a day worth living.

Even though I don´t feel like it right now.

Life is all the people that worry because they can see that I´m sad. Life is dancing a whole night long with a friend who I haven´t seen in more than a year and being happy to share a day together. Life is the surprises of seeing a childhood friend from Germany on the plaza in Bolivia while waiting for someone else.

Life is not knowing what will happen next. Life is being helpless. Life is to feel like being ripped apart inside. And having to hold on to the little moments of happiness that still exist.

Life is that a friend drives by your house to give you a watermelon, life is that a stranger picks up the 10 Bolivianos that fell out of your pocket. And Life is that you give back those moments, by giving a homeless man on the street a red rose, and the little kid on the bus a cookie, a hug to the little girl who feels lonely and takes your hand to feel more secure. ´

Everything comes and goes, no matter how beautiful or special, how terrible or sad. That does not alleviate the pain of the moment, and it does not take away the doubt of having done the right or wrong thing. It doesn´t take away the longing.  It doesn´t make the heart feel more alive, nor more whole, it doesn´t calm the moments of disbelief. But if things have to happen, things have to happen, and time is just time, moments are just moments.

Life is that my Mom tells me it´ll be ok even though it doesn´t feel like it, and ten other people tell me that I´m already fine even though I feel like I´m falling apart. Life is feeling pain just as intensely as love, which just reassures me that it really was love. Life is being told to look forward, but at the same time that he, too, can´t deal with the pain of losing what we had. Life is avoiding to weigh down the options, knowing but not wanting to believe the one that weighs less.

Does it make it any better to take one step forward trying to forget and the next moment take three backwards because it´s just not possible to forget?

Going out with friends helps, going to eat ice cream helps, too, and dancing is the best medicine, but only up to the point in that I don´t start thinking. Until I remember that nothing is the same even though it seems like it. Because he´s not here with me, just like before, but now he´s nowhere in my life. Just in my heart. An I am the one who kicked him out thinking I would be better off without him.  I think adjusting and accepting might be the hardest thing in the world; getting your head and your heart to feel the same way.

It´s good to have distractions.

And still I want to ask whether it would be worth the last three weeks, knowing that the hurt would be twice as big. Can I know? Can he know? Is it worth to even speculate? When it had to end either way?

Residency of the Ancianos

Comarapa. A village with just a hand full of streets, in the middle of the mountains, with air as fresh as the green flora and fauna of the valleys, and social institutions directed and maintained beautiful by the Catholic nuns. To describe sounds, feelings, smells, and the many wrinkles of an “ancianito” (as they say in Spanish) – an old person´s – face takes much careful thought and words chosen with love. I spent just one morning in a homeless shelter for older people, a residency and home for 40 persons. I was astonished to see that in a small village like Comarapa, the residency, kindergarten and preschool are so well kept, very modern and most of all, full of lovely people that care for the residents and children.

Backing up just a bit in the timeline of the little weekend trip here – we went to Comarapa as a group, almost all of the new volunteers from my organization went, meaning that we ended up with 20 people, mostly blonds and red heads :D. For me, it was very interesting to get to know the new group, as my group had left in September and I had not gotten a chance to meet all of the newbies. I like the way they work together as a group, not just because there is team spirit but because not one of the volunteers seemed to be overly active nor inactive. As individuals, it was interesting to see how they each still have a journey to go, obviously from my senior perspective of having been in Bolivia for more than a year heheheh, but I also observed that overall, they have very quickly gotten the hang of things here, details like everything being more laid back in Bolivia, with a positive and negative aspect, like the education that´s upside down, and the lack of structure in some projects where – from a “German” point of view there should be a structure. Quite obviously, many of these details cause frustration at first, but it is exactly dealing with this frustration that makes a person grow, inside and out. Because solving a problem once boost the self esteem to solve further problems with more patience and knowledge, which in turn means a more positive charisma. Apart from that, I immediately felt welcomed into the group, something very positive for me J

Back to the ancianitos. Upon entering the residence, you could feel the love that these, otherwise quite helpless people, received. The nuns that run the residency explained to us that most of the residents lived on the streets before, or don´t have any relatives that can take care of them. To explain this a bit, it is absolutely normal not only in Bolivia, as I understand, but in all of Latin America that one, the children live with their parents most of their lives if they don´t move to another city, and two, the kids then take care of their parents in return, once they reach a respectable age.  The other day I was looking up a few facts about Bolivia, just for the sake of freshening up my background info, and found out that the life expectancy lies at 65 years for men and 67 for women. Not knowing exactly how old “our” ancianitos were, I would guess that most of them have already passed their 70s. Sadly, most of them also have some sort of disability, but I will go into detail that later. The residency in itself radiates peace. With a big patio and balconies all along the second floor overlooking the patio, light filled the whole space. Looking up, all you could see was blue skies, and not one cloud. The white walls were covered with red flowers painted on in a few places. All along the patio, benches lined the hallway for the ancianitos to take a seat and admire, if not the sky, the flowers, and if not the flower, to chat with the other residents. To me, the whole place seemed like a paradise to live. Nurses took care of the flowers, of bathing the residents, of cooking lunch, and of then serving lunch and help the ancianitos with difficulties eat.

A group of ten volunteers, we were asked to simply talk with the ancianitos, to give them a chance to relate to us, and to feel our company. I sat down next to a woman who was tying together little patches of cloth, supposedly to put inside her breast pocket, but I am not sure for what exactly these little bundles. I like to believe that they are for good luck, but maybe that´s idealistic to think.  Even though it was at times hard to understand what the old lady was telling me (I sadly can´t even remember her name because I hardly understood it) I feel that for her it was important to talk to someone, even if only about the simple things in life. After about twenty minutes of talking to her, she even confessed to me that she missed her old bed and that she was sad because she does not have family that could take care of her. She started crying then, which touched me endlessly. I only once before had seen a person – better said stranger to me – cry in Bolivia. Since it´s something hard to take to see an old women cry, I told her softly that whenever she feels sad she should look at the red flowers painted on the wall and remember that life is too short to be sad.

Another very memorable moment for me was to talk to a woman, a bit younger than the first, who had Parkinson I think. Even though her whole body was shaking and every word pronounced was like swallowing a marble just backwards, she had a very special and catchy way of telling her stories. She told me something about her life before coming to the residency, I assume a time when she was still younger. She seemed so touched by our visit that she started giving hugs to everyone; an amazing person with a glow that she will hopefully never lose.

Among the other residents, there were two men, friends, who had such chemistry that it made them seem impossible to separate. They made jokes and laughed together as if they had known each other all life long, and maybe they had, but one told me that he had just recently come to the residency, while the other had been there for a year already!

Two more noteworthy women in the residency are, first, a woman who would not recline to offer me half of her fried egg that she had gotten served for lunch. Even though I told her over and over that I had already eaten, I had to eat half of her egg anyway. How sweet. The other woman was mute and talked with her hands. It was impressive how she managed to express herself and how emotional she talked to us. I´m pretty sure that she wanted me to give her my teeth because she had lost hers. Hihih. When I started taking pictures, she complained that there was no light that flashed (the flash)!! What energy and what happiness. Overall, that´s something that I love about the ancianitos - they were all so peaceful and happy, if not always, at least for moments, seconds.

Another character was a man who loved to shake people´s hands. It seemed to make him incredibly happy to share just this moment with people.

The pictures that I took of the ancianos are all special to me. I feel like I was able to bond with the people, if only for the blink of an eye, or the click of a camera. I felt like myself talking to the people, and it was amazing to see the people laugh. I am grateful for this experience.

Comarapa

September

"Sólo una cosa hace imposible un sueño: el miedo de fracasar."

There is only one thing that makes dream impossible: The fear of failure.

September. What a long time ago. How is it that time flies faster than a jet plane? But hey, I'm not going to lie and pretend that I didn't know that already. So. Back to September. It was weird getting slowly but surely to the point where I would have left Bolivia had I not extended my contract.

At work we had more than much to do because the yearly fundraiser was coming up the second weekend of September, bringing with it not only the invitations and preparations for the food that we would be selling, but also figuring out the prizes for the lottery, studying dances that would be demonstrated. On top of the fundraiser, we organized a soccer tournament that would take place Saturday, with the final on Sunday. Finally, the last few things had to be done like fixing and hanging up a big sign with information about the fundraiser, building up tents for the visitors to sit under, arrange tables and chairs, and most of all GET PREPPED!!!!!!!

There was nothing more satisfying to actually start the fundraising weekend after having pulled through with the organization. Obviously, the whole team of Plataforma was exited and ready to start working. We started out Saturday afternoon with the soccer games that ended up dragging out until late into the night. This gave us the chance to start selling drinks and hot dogs. At the end of the night we went home tired but ready to give everything to make the next day - the day of the actual fundraiser - a full success. Taking up that positive energy, I started out Sunday morning with my Batukada group (that now has T-shirts!) to make some noise out by the entrance to Plataforma and then at the corner of the street where the Micros pass by. After a more or less ok performance the evening before during the soccer games it was at first not easy to motivate my kids. After a while they did give in to my request to play even though the sun was already burning down, and in the end we even walked a few blocks before turning around tired. While I was busy making noise in the streets, Julian drove around the barrio with a mic and boom boxes to remind the neighbors of the fundraiser. In Plataforma, the preparation for the different Lunch offers where running on full. I helped out where I could, and took a break to eat lunch. Throughout the whole morning the vibes were more than good, with everyone in the team working at 100% but smiling. A detail that maybe brought even more unity to the team was the brand new PLATAFORMA SOLIDARIA T-shirts that had been delivered.

After lunch we started out with the first creative demonstrations. First, Pedro led the group of kids and volunteers to show the choreography that we had studied so hard before. Next, two more groups that we had invited performed their shows. I must say that a group of girls that danced Chacadera, a dance form Chuquisaca, more than impressed me.

Of course, we also had to finish the soccer tournament and name the winner before the big lottery where the luckiest one of the winners would take home a film camera.  What positive reinforcement to see the pride in the eyes of the kids that won the tournament, especially as they received the soccer ball that we gave away as a prize. The lottery was also a success, even though I was a bit disappointed that so many of the prizes went to people who had bought their ticket in advance, mostly from the better-off schools and universities, people who were not personally present at the Fundraiser.

As we finished up the day Manuela and I made cuñapés as an appetizer. I never thought that I would be able to sell all of them so fast, but after five minutes of walking around I had sold 65 cuñapés. For you who don´t know: Cuñapé are round, salty cheese cookies, in the form of a ball and made with Yuca flour and cheese. They are delicious and very typical in Santa Cruz.

After a day full of activities, the whole team was happy when the guests left and we could sit down to drink a cool beer. We danced some more and we the volunteers stayed a bit later when everyone else had gone home. It was lovely to watch the moon rise over Plataforma laughing and telling stories, and just sharing the moment of joint happiness. For me this evening was the end of a year full of experiences, full of highs and lows, but mostly highs because I decided to stay four more months.

Looking back on it for now, I think it was the best thing I could have done to extend my contract, because there are still things I have to do in Bolivia, mostly regarding my work.

I flew back to Germany with the other 28 German Volunteers of the BKHW. I thought there would be more tears, but there were hardly any.

*That weekend I also went out to dance for the first time in a long time to take my mind off of  few things and I had a good time even though it was the good bye party of my co-volunteers.*

My crazy travel plans were to visit my grandma in the north of Germany and go to the island Wangerooge with her. Flashback to the beginning of my journey through life:

"I also went on "vacation" from my travels to a small island in the North Sea with my grandma "Oma".  I loved the peace and quiet of the dunes as well as the busier beaches. And the sunsets were beautiful." (4. September 2013)

This year sadly the weather was not as kind and I half froze to death, so used to the heat of Santa Cruz. Nevertheless, it was sunny and did not rain so that we had a nice time altogether. Time with Oma is sacred and I value every minute I got to spend with her, even though I did note her getting older.

To fully appreciate the wonderful, fresh ocean air, I went for a run alongside the shore. I concentrated on my feet stepping down firmly on the sand, on the waves rolling in and subsiding in a steady rhythm, and it felt like flying when all I saw was the clouds reflecting in the puddles on the sand, and the bright sky above.

What was even more astonishing, though, was that I found a little seal baby that had been washed onto shore and apparently hurt. It was desperately trying to get back to the water and it was all I could do to not lift it up and carry it to the water. Luckily, an elderly couple passed by. They had a cell phone on them and called the animal control. I felt a bit bad to leave them, but if seemed there was nothing we could do and I was getting chilly from the cold wind that always stirs up the air around the ocean.  I would never have dreamed to see a seal, and on top a baby seal on my little trip to Germany.

Apart from spending time with my grandma, I came to an insight that maybe had been in my mind for a while, but that never appeared as more than an unclear form. The first night on the island we went to mass. Unlike normally, Oma did not push me to go, rather let me decide freely whether I want to go or not. And unlike normally, I actually wanted to go to mass.

The first thing that I saw as I entered the darkish church was a black and white picture projected on the wall, displaying a scene that I only was able to put in place as the father started to preach. The picture depicted a scene of utter chaos, of destruction and horror. I was wondering initially not about what the scene was, but rather if what I was seeing was a painting or a photograph. Then the father started his sermon. "Is humanity evil? Why so much war, so much destruction?" He was referring to 9/11. Just like the picture projected on the wall. And I had not picked up on it. I had simply overlooked a date crucial to modern history. I can´t even say that I had not looked at the day´s date because I had planned my trip and was aware on what date I would be where. A wave of shame rolled over me, just like now, a sense of disappointment in myself. How is it that we can live every day untouched by horror without taking even a second to think in those not as lucky? Not to make up for anything, but rather to reflect and question, I started to pray  for all hoses who had lost their lives to violence, to unnecessary crimes; to their families left with a hole in their lives too big to ever fill. I closed my eyes that had filled with tears and let the few, thoughtful words of the father rain down on me. Never had I experienced such a meditative, calm, and at the same time emotionally moving mass.  On top of the carefully selected words the father said, he started to play the piano accompanied by violin. He started singing a song that said "the blind stay blind until someone gets up to see for them". Now, this could very well be taken literally, but I see it much more abstract, even more so seen in context with what the father had said in his sermon before. Have we, as mankind, maybe not "seen" what damage we are doing and have done to life - not only our own but everyone´s? Will we only wake up when it is too late? Or have we just not learned to see yet?

The sermon took me by complete surprise and left me thinking and pondering over questions that I have asked myself over and over, but never come to a conclusion. They are the same questions the father had asked as he started mass. Is humanity evil?

Back to my vacation. I felt that by the time that Oma and I had to pack our bags and say goodbye to the island, she was happy to back on her way back home. And, even though I will never get enough of the salty air and the sound of the ocean, the prospect of seeing Pia made me anticipate our arrival.

In fact, Pia was waiting for us on the doorstep when we got back to Oma´s house after a tiring journey home. It was so good to see her I cannot describe how happy and complete I felt when I saw her. It is absolutely amazing how our friendship exists and flourished, based on seeing each other not more than once a year. We both change, but we can still giggle just like we did in 5h grade and even more so about the most basic and unimportant details. I don´t think I will ever find a friend as loyal as Pia, nor will I ever find a friendship with laws unspoken, but more natural than life itself. The simple fact of snuggling up to Pia at night like we have done for with 365-day-gaps of not seeing each other means the world to me. I remember a bit more than a year ago, the night before I had to say goodbye to my dad, I was lying on the grass with Pia star gazing when emotions overcame me and she just held me and petted my head without saying a word, without needing to say a word.

The next day mom came to visit, another person who I could not live without, whose tight hugs I would miss, and whose irreplaceable, wise advices I would not know how to replace. My mom knows me, sometimes better than I know myself. And even though I have gotten to the point of my life where I start to be independent and fly free, it is (even more so) important to feel that she is there for me whatever happens. I could not wish for a better mom, I could not wish for a more understanding and loving mom, and I could not wish for a happier, healthier relationship between us two. Love you mom. Thank you for everything.

Talking to my family I reflected upon my year in Bolivia. What stuck to me were the definitions of poverty that "we" (speaking about a generalized, oversimplified western culture) think are set in stone. Many of my relatives asked me about poverty - whether there is enough food, whether there is water and light. Hearing this, I was reminded that the picture of poverty that I find myself confronted with every day is not one of poverty as it might be seen by the "us". Typing in poverty in Google Images, what pops up? The first few links show children on piles of trash, with empty bowls in their hands, and so malnourished that their ribs stand out. But the poverty that I deal with is not one marked by malnutrition. I see kids abandoned by their families, kids that prefer to walk around the streets or work in the little stores called tiendas instead of going to school, with our without their parent´s consent. I hear six year old girls in a phase crucial to learning say that their mom does not want them to go to school. I see third graders who have still not learned how to read. I see a four year old who does not want to go home because her older brother hits her. And I have to look into a ten year old girl´s eyes and tell her that I might not come back to Bolivia once I leave after she asks me what I will bring for her because I have agreed to be her Godmother. This is the poverty that I see every day. Poverty not so much linked to the lack of food, nor the material, even though this might go hand in hand, but rather poverty marked by the deficit of love.

Love. I am the last person to say that I have not been loved. I have received love from my parents from the second that I was born, from my grandmothers, from my aunts and uncles, from my friends and occasional boyfriends...but back to the story

I was lucky enough to meet my other grandma Nana at the Frankfurt airport and then fly to Chicago with her. I was grateful to see her. Just like Oma, she is a role model, a woman who knows what is good in the world and who has fought to achieve great things in life, most of all to build up a loving family and give love to all the people around her, me being one of them. I could not be more proud of her to make the long journey from Germany to Chicago to see my family at an age where not all would be happy to hop on plane for seven to eight hours.

 Happiness overcame me when I saw my dad waiting for us at the airport. So many people to be grateful for, so many people to thank for a life so fulfilling. Dad was always there. I might have a more intimate relationship with my mom, but I feel closer to my dad in the sense that I can rely on him to be there, to be around, to console me and tell me everything is fixable. Where my mom gives me advices on the psychological aspect of life, my dad will always be there for me to help me figure out the practical part of life. And I will be there so we can enjoy the nature and take beautiful pictures of the sunrise. And give him the chance to sit on the passenger seat ;)

Next thing to say about being home (because in the end home is where my family is), is how amazing it feels to ride a bike down Greenleaf, take a left on Lakeshore Blv. And go straight, straight, straight, with the wind in my hair and sun on my face, with my hands stretched out like wings, the handlebars dangerously free, but my heart and mind even freer.

My destination? Jenny´s house. And how could I not be beaming with happiness to see my best friend who I hadn´t seen in nine months, and who will always make me feel special with just one long hug. It was SO good to see you! And I now know that our friendship won´t just fade away like so many others, that I will always be able to talk to you about anything, and then laugh even more so about the silly things in life. I love our special Lena Jenny nights and your family is like the mine. Sister at heart. I will always be there for you. And it hurts me to see you hurt, like the pain where my own. If you read this please know that I think of Kasper often and that I give my condolences to everyone in your family. It won´t be the same without him. I´m glad I got to see him one last time. RIP.

All this time I should not be forgetting my little brother, now not that little anymore, but rather pretty grown up. I am sad that I only got to see him one evening, but I did enjoy his company playing games and as always learning from him. I am proud that he is becoming such a handsome gentleman and seems like taking the right steps into the direction of a responsible, forcoming, young man. Even though we fight and without doubt have our differences, I could not wish for a better brother.

My visit to Chicago was not all fun and recreation. I also went to Loyola to check out if everything is ok with my application so that I would not have more difficulties in January when I start my studies. Good thing I did so because it turned out that I had to redo my application.

The only person I did not get to see was Annik. Miss you girl. It´s been too long.

Being at home was great, but it also made me feel incredibly lost. Lost, because I knew that I would return to this environment for at least a good while and I would leave behind a world so upside down and opposite in Bolivia. I would leave behind a life and a love. Because in the end long distance relationships don´t work if there is no clear future for the relationship. Good thing that the lake is made up of water.

Water. Water. Water. Sand. Sand. Sand. You don´t know what you had until it´s gone.

I also met up with Lily. Changes change people, but friendships stay the same when they are set in stone. I love how easily we can talk and how much trust there is in our relationship. I can´t wait for all the photo shoots in January when I come back.

Again, I had to get on a plane. Back to Bolivia. Still with the hope that someone would be waiting for me at the airport when I landed. Someone did pick me up, it just wasn´t who I was hoping for. I spent the night with coworkers because they live near the airport and from there went straight to work. How amazing to see my kids again, how amazing to hug all of them, to see that they had missed me the same that I had missed them.

I got to meet the two new German volunteers, Julius and Jakob; both super great even though they are just as lost in Bolivia as I was at the beginning of my time. They´ll learn :)

I learned that sometimes all it takes is one look to reignite feelings, to remember how much you can love a person and nevertheless how necessary it is to be honest before being anything else, on top of everything with oneself. I have never said words that I meant more and that at the same time hurt the double. But I was honest with him and with myself, and I am proud that I pulled through with that. Because if one of us isn´t happy, love is not enough to keep a relationship alive. So for now I have two and a half more months to enjoy a life that I will not get back as easily.

August

Is there anything healthier than to make mature decisions, to be calm and rested instead of stressed and worried?

I have not only been through an emotional rollercoaster, but also taken a trip around the world, I have loved, laughed, hurt and cried, I have made mistakes, I have taken both risky and wise decisions, and I have definitely grown in the process.

Since I have been in Bolivia for over a year now, here is a summary of what I have learned. It is obviously impossible to pack a year's worth of experiences into one and a half pages, and if you have followed my blog you will be much more up to date to what I have been doing, but for me it is important to put down a more objective summary, if I can call it that.

Here is a letter that I wrote to my counselor, to whom I owe a lot of the self esteem and personality that I have today. Thank you Ms. Graham.

Coming to Bolivia – a “so called” third world country and on top the poorest country in South America – had much to do with luck. I had known from the beginning of my junior year in High School that taking a gap year and doing some sort of community service in South America was what wanted to do after High School. My inspiration was my cousin, who went to Benin in Africa for a year teaching soccer, who planted the seed of doing volunteer work abroad. It was not until right before starting my senior year, however,  that I actually started making plans, looking for organizations that send volunteers to all parts of the world that the dream that I had had for a year started becoming a reality that would come true.

Even though I did not favor one South American country over another, I did have in mind to work with kids and possibly work with art. This narrowed my search down to only a few links, and with much luck, I found an NGO sponsored by a program of the German government that give money to various smaller (and bigger) organizations so that they can send volunteers throughout the world.

The work I initially applied for was an art workshop in the center of Bolivia that works with children from the streets and form different neighborhoods - a project where initiative is a must and energy and creativity even more so. It sounded very much like me and I was more than happy when I got accepted about half way through my senior year.

With just a few more preparations, a two week seminar, and tears of good-byes, I was on my way to Bolivia. What was I thinking? Mostly, that it was a crazy beautiful thing to go off to another country without really speaking the language and with no real idea of how things work there. Most of all, I was ready to learn and ready to help.

When I got to Santa Cruz de la Sierra with 28 volunteers that set off to Bolivia with me, everything seemed great and like heaven to me. I soon noticed, however, that my work was not what I had imagined it to be, and that I would not get to work with kids, at least for the next few months. Still I made the best of the situation and enjoyed learning about art and murals form my coworkers in the art workshop. Since the situation was difficult for the workshop and they (or we) were struggling to keep the heads above the water, it was a challenge to start own projects and bring in own ideas. I did help out with photography classes, but outside of the art workshop. At the workshop my fellow volunteer and I organized a (paid) arts camp, but by the time that half a year had passed, I realized that the art workshop was not my place to be and that I did not feel comfortable there. I set out to find a new project, initially just part time, and found my current job.  I now fully work at a children´s and youth center combined with a soup kitchen and a kindergarten in one of the poorest neighborhoods of Santa Cruz.  There I have been teaching art, photography, music, English, and arts and crafts. Most of all, I’m there for the kids when they have no one else to give them a hug or to talk.

This brings me back to the idea of “help”. Can we – privileged persons from the western culture – even begin to talk about helping in a culture that we don´t know, in my case without any prior experience and even less of a professional schooling? After a year of volunteering in Bolivia, and reflecting back on my own thoughts and feelings, I think the word help is poorly picked. Maybe interchanging experiences puts down better what I now feel I have done for the past year, because for me volunteering has not only been about giving, but even more so about what people have given me back. I have learned that with an honest smile you can open up worlds, that by listening closely you can learn so much more, and that being humble is the greatest gift that a person has, because the person who gives – even more so in a non-materialistic way – no matter how rich or poor is exponentially happier than the person who always aspire to have more. With this secret in mind, it is always important to not lose the goal to do something greater – if you want –the spirituality of life. 

Through many factors and again much luck, I had the opportunity to renew my contract for another three months, until December.  Being away for two weeks visiting my family in both Germany and Chicago, and then coming back to Bolivia to give all my kids and coworkers a hug has been more than a blessing to me and I am so grateful that I get to broaden my work (an my horizon) for another three months.

I plan to study psychology and Spanish at Loyola University Chicago in January 2015 and to join the Honors Program that looks to encourage a broad spectrum of thinking.

Observations from the past month:

Observation I Aug. 18, 2014

It's incredible how easily one gets used the once very absurd surroundings like markets filled with hygienic products side by side with pirated movies and fruit stands. It is also beautiful to see a city with a diversity rich in cultures, a diversity of people and fachettes.

And it is something absolutely special to have someone next to you in bed, whether it is a friend, boy/girlfriend, or even a cat that cuddles up beside you.

Observation II Aug. 19, 2014

I saw a dog die today. He was hit by the taxi driver that had driven Doña Marcia, Eva, and me back to Plataforma from the Abasto. I just heard the yelping of the little dog and how the other dogs in the street chased him to the ditch covered in grass. Already half crying, I ran over to the dog. He was a small, white-haired fellow with his tong hanging out and his eyes half closed, gasping for air. All I could do for him is pet him until he stopped breathing while the taxi driver had not even stopped a minute to see what he had hit.

I neither knew what to do with the dog, nor to whom he had belonged. RIP.

In the afternoon I saw a sunset that took my breath away. The setting, red sun was slightly covered by all the dust in the streets, which made the light seem even more intense and the atmosphere more magical.

What a contrast of life and death in one day.

Observation III Aug. 20, 2014

What pride to see my kids at school actually engage in class and learn what I want them to learn. It's amazing how entertained 9 year-olds are from a simple game as shouting out the names of colors in English. I love these little moments of success. The kids seem so much happier when they are occupied doing something than when they do nothing.

In the afternoon I helped cut the wool of a sheep - Roly's family's sheep :D What a peaceful site to see a sheep that usually runs away from humans in fear lying calmly on my lap to get its wool cut off. I also didn't know that sheep have such an oily skin.

Observation IV Aug. 21, 2014

It would be good to start writing down what I have to do and when events are. Today I got in trouble (even though mostly with myself for forgetting) because I had forgotten to get together my Batucada group for an important performance tomorrow. Normally I would have had to get permission from the teachers a day in advance so that the 7 kids could miss school without problem, but since I forgot I would have to improvise and get the permission by talking a bit sweeter than normally the next morning.

Observation V Aug. 22, 2014

After getting the permission at 7am from both my kid's teachers and principals, we went back to Plataforma to see if anything still had to be brought to the small plaza where we would support a demonstration against violence. My coworkers had forgotten one of the big drums so that I had to both carry the drum on my head and watch the kids on the way to the plaza. Luckily all of them were between 9 and 14 y.o. so that they behaved well. It was exiting to arrive at the plaza with the kids, meet up with my coworkers, and then start to practice with the kids. Usually when we have an event like this one, the Batukada teacher comes to direct us, but he wasn't able to come today. This meant that I had to direct the whole group. Right as we were in the middle of practice that was going super well, Julian arrived with all the students from the nearby school Fe y Alegria. It was such a special feeling to see the plaza slowly fill with over 400 students while we were playing music and doing out thing. Above all, it made me incredibly proud how WELL my kids played!!!! The demo against violence went incredibly well and we had many presentations - even from the police speaking up against violence in the community. All of the students had brought white balloons and posters. After working hard and stressing about getting my kids together, I was rewarded with pride greater that the sky of how well my group played. We definitely brought life into the demonstration.

Observation VI Aug. 23, 2014

Last day of Aurora and Ricardo. We prepared dinner and shared the experiences of the past weeks over dinner with the whole team in Plataforma. Later, we showed pictures of the two and had heart to hearts. Aurora said something that touched me and hit close to home: I'd like to come back, but one never knows. What I do know is that I have all the memories here inside and they will stay there forever." Even Ricardo cried, and I have to admit that he impressed me. Turns out that the stuck up guy I thought him to be had been teaching math and how to read and write to doña Asteria after finding out that she doesn´t know.

In the late evening we started to dance. I shared a few glasses of Cuba Libre with Pedro the polish volunteer (and an amazing guy) and was in a good mood. Afterwards we played cards until the middle of the night. In the end all that counts are the moments spent together, the laughter and smiles, and the love we give and receive. That´s what I take with me every day.

Observation VII Aug. 24, 2014

Sleep

Observation VIII Aug. 25, 2014

Children need love. And a task, and someone to look up to. Most of all, they need the chance to become someone greater.

Observation IX Aug. 26, 2014

It takes a lot to analyze feelings. But, once analyzed, it´s amazing how realization leads to problem solving. Today: analyzing feelings (and actions). Why does someone chose to back away from another person? Out of fear. Why does my boyfriend keep me at arm's length? Because he is afraid of loving me too much, of falling in love too deep, and later suffering when I leave. There we go.

Observation X Aug. 27 2014

TEAM - work together. get along. help. together. take care. RESPECT

How can one teach in a room full of 40 nine year old kids that should be a team but have no respect, not of each other nor of the teacher? Almost impossible. And the kids need the lesson.......

Being told by a seven year old that I look pretty :) What a compliment!

Observation XI Aug. 28, 2014

2nd graders are the cutest. I come into the class room and hear a chorus of 20 kids say: Buenos dias profesora de mi corazón! (good morning teacher in my heart) My 5th graders have told me the same once or twice and it also touched me :)

In the afternoon: Waka Waka with Pedro. What a calorie burner dance. But super fun!

Also: bonding with Annai and Emi.

Observation XII Aug. 29, 2014

Waking up to a love letter sent via text message :)