The Chapare...

Woke up to the sound of my alarm clock at 6, praying that it was just a truck passing by my window selling bread and spreading political opinion throughout the campo. I rolled out of bed and went for a quick shower before our field trip to the Chapare region. Only once I was unclothed and freezing in my concrete bathroom did I realize that no water was coming out of the showerhead. My family was not up yet, and so I dressed, took a vitamin C and started walking the half hour to my fellow Tourism volunteer’s house. From there we started on our 2-hour ride to El Paraiso, a.k.a. Paradise, where we visited a trout farm and tourist destination. A PCV almost finished with her service came along and after exploring the cloud forest where this “paradise” was located, she gave us answers to questions that only those who have been here two years hold. A lot of it was about technical aspects, working with the local mayor’s (alcaldia’s) office, not playing a political role in your community, and what to do when nothing you expected to get done gets done. In the past three days, I have gone from feeling really frustrated with being able to make a difference, to feeling extremely eager to finally be applying some architectural/ planning elements to my community, to feeling utterly self-righteous in this new place. Thursday we went to a school where we spoke of education and natural resources. We tried to ask this 8th grade class what they thought were advantages and disadvantages of their school system, and using that same model, what were strengths and weaknesses that their community possessed in terms of natural resources. The best response we got to the latter question was a blank stare. I suppose that for me realizing that the level of education of one’s own surroundings and the opportunities and threats that exist not even a kilometer from one’s house is practically non-existent. On Friday, we visited the Museo de Historia Natural Alcide d’Orbigny; here we met with the director who gave us a tour and demonstrated to us that he was a great asset to us once we are in our sites. He is an archaeologist who is an expert on local artifacts, and there is a great possibility that our location will be one where these artifacts are the goal of our tourist attraction. In this session we also were briefed on how to build a community museum with artifacts, epoch-clothing/ attire, and pictorial histories. I regained the glimmer in my eye when I thought of having to design the infrastructure, layout, and presentation of this community museum; I only hope that this is an activity that takes hold in my community! Today at the trout farm the other two tourism volunteers and myself led a workshop with the owner of the farm and two prospective trout farmers. We had about a minute to prepare what we were going to say, and then brainstormed activities that could be ameliorated in this specific case as well as prioritizing steps for the potential farmers to take in order to be successful. Perhaps this is the element of my job here, which is the most taxing on me, at least for the moment. The idea of myself conducting this workshop in my still sub-par Spanish and suggesting to this Don the best way to create a fish farm and draw Bolivian/International tourists is near impossible to grasp. I neither feel qualified academically nor feel it appropriate for me to be in this position! In perspective, now that the day is over, it was a great learning experience, if only for the practice in running a workshop and introducing ideas of tourism and visiting a site due to its natural attributes which are still very foreign to the typical Bolivian.
I guess the moral of this story is that in the end all things even out. The rollercoaster days are always balanced out by a good meal (trout and local white wine!), fellow volunteers experiencing the same frustrations, and having a family to come home to. The week has flown by… tomorrow I get to experience my first Bolivian wedding, I promise pictures when (IF!) I dance! Chao~