Refresh Bolivia

The summer after my first year at Harvard, I knew that I wanted to go to South America. Ideally, it'd be to volunteer, because that way I could be doing something for people and I could potentially learn Spanish. So when I found out about a student group called Refresh Bolivia that goes to Cochabamba, Bolivia every summer to volunteer, I decided it'd be a great way to spend some time. What's more, people who got accepted as board members wouldn't have to pay the volunteer fee and would just be responsible for covering their own flights.

Fortunately, I was accepted as a board member, and so throughout the year helped out with the preparations and fundraising for the work we would be doing in Bolivia. On the trip, which took place from August 14-28, there were 8 of us total (5 board members and 3 volunteers). Having coordinated with a local NGO called Red de Acción, we worked in a barrio called Carolinas.
I learned that in that part of the city, its outskirts, the land was owned by the government and so the people residing there (all of indigenous decent and speaking Quechua and Spanish) were illegally settled. Cochabamba is a city encircled by mountains, and the poorest live on the foothills in the south. Thus, where we worked, there was quite a trek between worksites, at times involving a steep walk uphill. Compared to slums in the Philippines, you could distinguish individual lots and properties. In the Philippines, the slums are quite constricted and very heavily populated. A lot of times, they're found right by the water, whether it be a sickly river or the sea itself. In Cochabamba, though, good water is hard to come by, and especially so in the slums. Prior to our work, almost nobody in the barrio had bathrooms. Our project this year was to build/improve upon ten "dry"/ecological bathrooms throughout the barrio.

Carolinas

Walking uphill was such a struggle

A resourceful way of transporting cement to the site below

Taken from above, the same bathroom almost completed

As volunteers, we helped out with the non-professional tasks, since professionals took care of the actual building. We moved a lot of materials (bricks, cement, dirt, rocks, rods, pipes, etc.) to the different worksites, which at times was a task. These were places you couldn't drive up to, so there were a lot of human chains to pass stuff down (or up). Most of the time it was quite a good workout. Volunteers would also mix cement. Each day, we had high schoolers come from a local English-speaking school help out. Although they all spoke good English, I was able to only speak in Spanish with them. I figured it'd be easier to relate to them that way.

Helping mix cement

Some high schoolers and me

Probably the best part for me was getting to interact with the people of the community we were helping. It was really fascinating for me to learn about how they all mobilized to get bathrooms. Apparently, the women who put in the most volunteer hours last year would be higher on the list of who would get bathrooms this year. The women helped out a lot at the different sites, too. We got to hear about their lives, and I do believe that the ones I remember merit being written down. There was Doña Raymunda, a very pretty 17-year-old set to get married on October 10th. She already had a baby, which is practically unheard of in that community before marriage. Apparently, around a hundred people are going to show up to the 3-day affair of her wedding. Then there's Doña Cenovia, who was considerably more well-off than most of the other ladies getting bathrooms. Her house has its own gate, and two stories. The second story was just two empty rooms that looked like they hadn't yet been prepared to be lived in, as though it were still a work of construction in progress. To get between the two stories (which were able to exist because of the lot being on a hillside), you used either a ladder or stairs, all made of wooden planks. Doña Cenovia's husband was a professional construction worker, so he was able to work on their bathroom even on off hours. In contrast to her, just a few minutes' walk down the hilll lived Doña Francisca. She was probably the poorest of who we worked with; her house was really tiny, with no marked boundaries. She had two young kids. Melisa was elementary school age. I was happy to see that she goes to school; I tied her tie once, remembering how I used to do the same for myself when I wore a school uniform. Joel was a toddler who loved being carried and was fascinated with people's glasses. He had a very distinct sneaky smile, which we adored.

Doña Cenovia's house

The ladder and stairs, with the bathroom in construction

Doña Francisca's house, also with a bathroom in construction

Joel and me

Speaking of school, there were these two little girls, Arminda and Norma, who would continually ask me to draw different things for them. Apparently, they were learning English at school, and the drawings were hung up with their English words written by them. I was so touched that they asked me to do that for them; they were really sweet. Another young girl I met sticks out in my mind, Silvia. I talked to her about her family, and she asked me about myself too. (All of my conversations with the people would take place in Spanish.) Much like me, she doesn't like math too much but enjoys social sciences, natural sciences, and languages. With her I helped sift dirt to prepare cement. Silvia told me the names of the dogs in the area. I grew rather fond of them, especially one named Dyson. Considering the dogs grow up right alongside the little kids who play rough with them, they were all tame and accustomed to living with people.

Arminda and Norma's house, where they live with their parents and little brother

Silvia and her little brother Elmer

Dyson and me

Another lady I met was Doña Gregoria, who cooked food for trufi drivers. Her meals only cost 10 bolivianos (less than $2) for soup and a full plate. Only Bowen (another volunteer) and I considered our stomachs strong enough to eat her cooking, though.

I feel like I got to know the people (and dogs) pretty well, considering we did spend 9 days working there. Besides that, I found the setting of it all quite incredible. Since Carolinas was uphill, there was an expansive panorama of Cochabamba that could be seen. You could see very far out, all the way to the silhouettes of mountains across the valley. You could even see the airport, a faint green strip of land amidst buildings, and I would watch airplanes fly in from the distance, right next to the slums, and then land in the airport and fade out of my vision. It made me wonder what the people of the barrio thought of the planes, if they cared at all about those flying machines that passed by several times throughout the day. I doubt any of them have ever been on one, which made me think of my own life and all the planes I ride (like the one I'm on right now, writing this).

Overall, I had an unforgettable experience. I interacted with people I never thought I would be acquainted with, and I helped to better their community and their lives. I even learned a few words in Quechua. Now that I've gone on the trip, I'm more appreciative of my role as a board member, and more knowledgeable as well. Since I'm a board member, I can technically go back next year, provided I get my own tickets. In all honesty, I really, really want to. (I was saying before I went on the trip that I didn't think I would, but I was afraid of this happening.)

Well, my visa is valid for ten years, so I might as well, right?