Inside the Bowels of the Rich Mountain

Preparing for the entry. I had no idea what I was in for at this point....

I´m working with migrants from Potosí, so I felt it important to visit their reality along with a few other crazy tourists. A visit to the still active mines of Cerro Rico is not considered to be your everyday tourist activity, but rather a lesson in the local reality and history of this region. This still working cooperative mine offered me a perspective into what some people have to do in order to survive. For by the grace of God go I... Although the miners we met would likely share a different persective, life in the tunnels and slides of a mountain sometimes up to 24 hours per day without food or drink (only coca leaves) is no way to live, but it´s the only way to live and survive in this region. They are proud and determined people and boy do they ever work hard, in dangerous conditions. It´s too arid and cold to grow anything, mining is it. And all this so I can have a nice little silver ring around my finger. As I look at my rings dancing across the keyboard at this moment, I am able to reflect on a whole new level and I invite you to do the same. One intense four hour visit for me, and a lifetime (of about 45 years) for these brave men.

A brake at the bottom of a very steep slide of dust. I was trying to take deep breaths, but the combo of elevation and immense amounts of dust, made it challenging.

They even let me lift a shovel! All I know now is that shoveling rocks is a hell of a lot heavier than the soil in my garden. I only lasted a few rounds before I was way too tired...

The Highest City in the World!

One of the many colonial church steep with Cerro Rico ("rich mountain") in the background

Elias and I made a journey to Bolivia´s highest city this past weekend and what they claim to be the highest city in all the world (about 15,000 ft). After 10 hours in an overnight bus that made switchbacks all night, we arrived to crisp, cool air and beautiful sunshine. Potosí is the mining capital of this country rich in natural resources. Unfortunately, Bolivia hasn´t yet learned how to capitalize on these resources, but has rather been raped of them (tin, gold, silver, natural gas) for the last four hundred years by colonial powers and a series of transnational corportations. In it´s heyday (mid-1600s) , Potosí was the richest city in the world (with London ranking second)! Since they´ve been mining Cerro Rico for the last 400 years, there isn´t a whole lot left, so the city has seen a decline in mining profits. Many of it´s residents have migrated to larger cities like Cochabamba in search of work (the reason for my visit - to understand the history of some of the families I´m working with). What remains is some beautiful Spanish colonial architecture from the times when Spain ruled the area (and all the minerals mined were considered their property...). It is a sleepy city, with thin air, and very friendly people.

A beautiful Baroque church door and our guide offering coca leaves and a cigarette to please el tio

The highlight of the visit was definitely our visit to a mining cooperative. It was intense,

scary at times, but a very enlightening experience. We met "el tio" (the devil), who is the guardian of the mine and the underworld, as well as some miners who will be lucky to live to reach 40 years. There are teenagers and even children who work in the mines in order to support their families. I´ll post more photos later when I have more time...

On the trail of the Incas

Becky and I had an adventure last weekend in search of the Incan ruins closest to Cochabamba called Incarakay. No one I had talked to the week before had even heard of them, but we had our Lonely Planet guide like every good tourist does complete with directions like "follow the water pipe past the ditch until you get to the second false peak...". We set out in search of the water pipe from the main square in Sipe Sipe and below you can see what we found. It was a beautiful hike, an amazing workout, and a very much needed break from the city (although we could see the city the entire time...). It was certainly no Macchu Picchu, but we loved every minute of it!

My two crews combined!

Work is great. This is a fun shot of a mixture of the FSD volunteers and directors with my co-workers at ProHabitat (every non-gringo except for the guy in yellow) when we visited eachothers´agencies during orientation week. I´m not hard to spot in my Robertshaw shirt;)

Just as I thought it was becoming clear about what my role at ProHabitat is when I turned in my Work Plan yesterday, things got more complicated and exciting at the same time. The project I´m SURE that I´m doing involves a participatory evaluation of the youth program at the close of year one of a four year project. This involves getting to know the youth in our various communities, which I´ve already begun to do, evaluating the process so far from their point of view, and producing a report at the conclusion to share both with the communities and OXFAM (our funder). It´s a substantive project that I´m excited to do and I feel is very appropriate for a volunteer like myself.

Then.... I went to Maria Auxiliadora, one of our communities, where we have started a family garden initiative and I had an exciting conversation with the president of the community. There are kids interested in gardening, they want to start a fruit orchard, a income-earning flower nursery, the library is desperately in need of books and a computers, and many people are intersted in learning about worm composting. So, the confusion begins again. All of these new options excite me very much, but the organization NEEDS this evaluation done. I´m searching for a balance and will let you know when I find it. Thank goodness I have supportive and welcoming co-workers and Maria Auxiliadora is a wonderful place to give my time to. The community deserves an entry of it´s own that I´m sure will come soon.

Maybe as soon as next week if I don´t end up heading south to Argentina with my host family for a parachuting competition... Life is never short on surprises here;) Until next time, take care and I hope to hear from you soon! Jump into a pile of fall leaves and think of me, will ya?

¡We say potatoes, they say papas!

This entry goes out to all my garden club friends at O.W. HOLMES Elementary in Detroit! How´s the garden looking?

So, I hear you´re learning about potatoes today?! And you know, that´s perfect, because I happen to be surrounded by them much of the time whether it be at the market, my dinner table, or just walking down the street. Potatoes are a huge part of the culture here in Bolivia and we eat A LOT of them! Bolivia is the country in red and I´m living right now in a city called Cochabamba right in the middle of the country.

Did you know that there are more than thirty different kinds of potatoes grown here in Bolivia? They come in all different shapes and sizes as you can see below. We eat potatoes in soup, bread, as french fries, mashed, potatoes stuffed with meat and eggs, and the list goes on! There are even drinks here made out of potatoes! Potatoes are especially important to the native people of Bolivia - the Quechua and Aymara people. Just last week, we offered potatoes and other great things to the Panchamama, the spirit of the Earth for the Quechua people, in a ceremony called K´wa. K´wa is a monthly ceremony to give thanks for all the earth has offered this month.

In order to get some cool potato photos for you, I headed on a 20 minute walk to the Cancha - the largest market in all of South America! You can literally buy anything you can think of in the Cancha, so of course I stumbled across some potatoes for sale. They call them papas here! Here are some of the coolest potatoes and coolest papa saleswomen that I found. Do the papas look different to you than the ones that you´re growing in the Romanowski garden?

Here is a women selling her varieties including this awesome one with purple on the inside!

This family of potato salepeople in the Cancha told me that all the papas that they sell grow on the sides of the mountains of Cochambamba! Do you know where the ones you eat are from?

Alright, I better home now to eat some dinner and I promise you they´ll be some potatoes in the mix:) I hope you are enjoying the harvest in the garden for me. If you have any questions or comments for me, feel free to reply. I would love to hear from you! I miss you guys and hope you´re doing well. How are your potatoes coming along????

Happy 40th, Che!

Monday is the 40th anniversary of the death of Che Guevarra. He was killed here in a remote village in Southcentral Bolivia. There are thousands of people from all over the world making the long trek to Valle Grande to commemorate his life and vision. I have been told by many that it is a spectacle to attend and a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have to admit that I thought about making the journey this weekend, but I decided that the purpose of curiousity was not enough. I passed up the once in a lifetime opportunity because although I support a lot of what Che stood for, I can´t back the violent means he turned to in an attempt to reach his goals in the later years. There is more truth to his story than the iconic and overused symbol that he has become since his death. Although I´m not in Valle Grande this weekend, I plan to continue to look into the life of this Latin American revolutionary, whose vision still pulses very strongly through the people here. There is a deep and emotional truth to his vision for justice that I am only beginning to understand.

There´s one for the Pachamama

It´s been a rollercoaster of a week, but the lows weren´t as low as the highs were high and I wasn´t really even thrown for any loops if you know what I mean;) The first week of work is always a challenge as you search for your niche in a place that was functioning well before you showed up on the scene, but considering I haven´t shed a tear in frustration yet, things are pretty darn good.

The highlight of the week was last night. The first Friday of every month is special here in Bolivia (and throughout the Andean region, I imagine) because it´s the night where everyone (of indigenous decent) offers Q´wa. Q´wa is a ritual offered to the Pachamama (Mother Earth) each month in thanks for good health, success, safety, love, and all the riches she has provided for our sustenance and in hopes that such good luck will continue. Since the majority of the staff at my work are of Quechua decent as are our clients, we offered Q´wa last night on the door step of Fundacion ProHabitat. In Q´wa, symbolic herbs, symbols, and sweets are burned over a small fire and everyone present offers wine and alcohol to the four corners (much like Native Americans) before taking part ourselves. It was an informal, fascinating, tasty, and fun cap to my first week of work. As the embers still smoldered and the smoke rose to the sky, we headed off to a restaurant to the sounds of fireworks and traditional music filling the streets. The combo of new traditions meeting old is fascinating to observe.

Really briefly, other highlights of the week included my discovery of a veggie and hummus wrap at a nearby restaurant, 40 twenty year olds dancing to some very loud music in the living room until 2 AM on Thursday in celebration of my host sister´s b-day, and the amazing pasty, strawberry, whip cream, yummy cake that is still taking over half of our fridge. Life is tough with such tasty food at my fingertips...

Quiet streets, smoky hills

I woke up this morning (Happy Birthday, Mom!) to news that there was a transportation strike. All public transportation was suspended to call attention to the unequal amount of road construction funds allocated to the department of Cochabamba in comparison with the other departments. The strike means that a city dependent on public transport doesn´t have any for the day and many of the roads and bridges in and out of the central city are blocked with logs, large rocks, and at times, buses, as was the case today.

Remember that feeling when you were a kid when you looked out your window to a blanket of white snow or to an early morning phone call in the middle of winter? I got excited like a used to on a snow day, but this day was more like a no taxi, trufi, or bus day, no snow to be found. I thought it meant I didn´t have to work (I like my work and all, but an unexpected free day is always welcome, right?) Lucky for me, though, I´m the only intern in my program that can walk to work, so when I didn´t recieve a call from my office or program, I tested out the streets on foot early this morning to see if I could get to work without meeting a blockade. According to the news, this blockade was peaceful, so my host family was cool with me heading out, as was I.

I have to say that my walks today have been kind of surreal and reflective. At first, I enjoyed the peaceful streets. It´s nice not to have to risk my life crossing each intersection;) or atleast not to have to be as vigilent as normal. After I got over the peacefulness, though, and didn´t run into any unexpected delays, I starting reflecting on who these blockades really effect. First of all, the kids. My sisters and every other kid in Cochabamba today was home from school cause all the schools were closed. There aren´t any school buses here; the kids ride public transport. And to think their education is interrupted by things like blockades when they only get 4.5 hrs. of school per day anyway! How can Bolivian kids expect to compete in a globalizad world when they´re only getting about half the class time as kids in the Global North…? And then my thoughts turned to the working poor and disabled. I saw quite a few bikes, motorcycles, and personal vehicles on the roads today, but you don´t have those unless you have atleast some money. The people that need income the most, the people that make their living selling on the street or with an hourly wage job, likely couldn´t make it to work unless they got up at 5AM to start walking (that is if they´re physically able to walk). So, basically, blockades like we had today cost kids and the working poor more than anyone else. But hey, atleast the roads might get repaired, right? The inequality of such a system is more than frustrating… I worked all day because I could.

So that´s a peak into my reflections for the day. I guess such thoughts have a chance to arise when one gets to walk 80 minutes each day (4 times a day up and down the same street)…

So instead of being blanketed in pollution, the mountains surrounding Cochabamba are blanketed in smoke this evening… In the outskirts of the city, the yearling burning is going on to clear new fields for planting as the rainy season is on its´ way.

Until next time…

ProHabitat it is!

So, I tried out my first option for work, Fundacion ProHabitat, last Friday and after a two hour conversation with the director and weighing my options complete with a scored pro con list, I´ve decided to stay here in Cochabamba rather than head out to the mountains. After all, ProHabitat offers me the best chance to learn Spanish, practice community organizing, live with my host family full-time, and take advantage of the numerous cultural opportunities available here in the city. I´m relieved to have made my decision finally.

I´ll be working as a part of the education team, especially with the teenagers in the Southern Zone of the city. My independent project will involve evaluating the impact of our programs and needed improvements resulting in a report that can lead to internal changes and can be shared with the public and funding sources. I also hope to be involved in some way with the family vegetable gardens sprouting up in some of the communities. I don´t know much more than this yet, but I´m excited for the challenges that lay ahead and all that I have to learn and give. Today, on my first full day, we had an informational fair in the main plaza because it´s the International Right to a Home Day. I had the chance to hand out some flyers for our program and talk to many folks who are in need of loans from us in order to build a home on their lot. And tonight, I´ll be with the education team meeting with one of our youth groups for a discussion on sexuality. Should be a good topic to break the ice and see what the teens are like!

Please let me know what´s new with you- would love to hear from you!

I look like a pyramid...

My dream of having braids during my time here ended yesterday when I got impatient with my not quite long enough yet hair. So, next time you come to Bolivia, don´t venture to a hair salon by the name of Roxana, pay just short of $2 for a haircut and expect to get what you were looking for. No woman in her right mind wants her hair to be the shape of a pyramid when she repeated over and over ´I´d like it rounded please´. Atleast I think that´s what I was saying.... Oh well, at least it´ll only be about $2 to fix it up nice and round:)