Amurica

I am overwhelmingly excited, nervous, anxious, and nostalgic all at the same time as today is my second-to-last day in the land of the free and the home of the brave. My two formal duties while in Colombia are to teach English at La Universidad Libre and conduct microfinance research with ACCIÓN. Luckily I am neither a trained teacher nor an experienced researcher. But I feel I’m right for the job. My greatest asset is most likely that I am American: a real, live, breathing, thinking, acting component of American culture.

Travel has taught me that some people love us, some hate us, some can’t decide, but either way almost all are interested. So what do I say? What is it like to be an American? Daily life, education, music, movies, language, friends, family, food, geography. So much to consider. “America is part of the human condition, within its borders there is vast variety of interest, amusement, goodness, evil, humor, absurdity, and all the other human attributes” (Alistair Cooke). Could we please be more vague?

One thing I know for sure is that I’m proud to be an American. Proud to call this place my home. Patriotic not just because I was born here, but because of the simple fact that we don’t need to rely on others to tell us that sometimes we need change. America is a self-critical nation. Read any newspaper, magazine, journal, you name it, the evidence is clear. America is in constant struggle to “be the change [it] wishes to see in the world” (Gandhi). I can pay my country tribute by doing the same.

Soo enough of my sappy America shpeel; I head out Sunday morning. Colombia’s first impression of me will be too much luggage (trying desperately not to over pack but I feel it’s inevitable), along with my broken nose, stitches, and fat lip. Cute. I’ll let ya know how it goes and more importantly what I learn along the way.

From Shiny Ceilings to Shining Seas

     Volumes upon volumes have already been written about all of the wonders that I have seen and learned about during our first week here in Italy.  Sooo, I’ll leave the Roman history, Pompeii excavation, and Renaissance Art to the experts.  From what I can tell, Italy has got it goin’ on.

     Given that I have primarily traveled throughout Central and South America, and now Italy, I have toured a number of Catholic churches in my day.  None as extravagant as the Basilicas in Italy, most constructed hundreds, some thousands of years ago.  St. Peter’s Basilica for example is bar none the most ornate building that I can imagine existing, anywhere.  The genius of Michelangelo ceases to amaze me.  These churches are jaw-dropping, huge (I mean huge), ceilings covered in gold, famous sculptures galore, frescos frescos frescos, marble floors.  In a word: excessive.

     Perhaps they are as such to demonstrate the power of the church, the power of one’s faith.  Or perhaps it’s a lesson in humility, like standing next to the ocean.  Maaaybe they foresaw that years from now they would be an endlessly profitable tourist attraction.  Either way, something about it makes me uneasy. 

     Are not the values and virtues of faith sufficient to attract and mai

ntain followers?  Is belief not enough?  Do I need a golden roof over my head to pray?  The contradictions are distractingly evident.  Or maybe I should just thank the Pope for contracting Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel for my viewing pleasure.  It most certainly is incredible.

     Of even greater beauty is the Amalfi Coast in Southern Italy.  Beautiful villas overlook dramatic coastlines, which meet a bright blue, shining sea.  From shiny ceilings to shining seas.  I even got to take a quick dip in the Grotta Azzurro.  The views, the people, the food… everything is beautiful in Sorrento.  Life is good.

More on Florence, Tuscany, Vienna, and Milan to come.

Arrivederci! 

Girl Power

Growing up with three brothers has (admittedly ironically) led me to like ‘boys’ even more. They possess an element of simplicity. A self-assuredness. A conviction. It’s charming. That being said, thank heavens for ‘girls.’ Last week I read Greg Mortenson’s second book Stones Into Schools and for the first time fully digested the potential for women to drastically impact our social, political, and economic quality of life. “Simply put, young women are the single biggest potential agent for change in the developing world – a phenomenon that is sometimes referred to as the Girl Effect” – Greg Mortenson. Wow, bold statement.

The data speaks for itself. A number of studies conducted by the World Bank and The Council on Foreign Relations demonstrate that investing in girls’ education boosts a community’s income growth, farming productivity, and women’s empowerment while decreasing malnutrition and the fertility rate. One major conclusion strikes me as I read that list of improvements: women (perhaps more so than men) utilize their education to directly benefit the family and their community. Their resources are immediately reinvested in continued social and educational development. It’s a win win.

One of the more discouraging things that I have read about higher education in developing countries is that often, these countries and/or communities lose their most well-educated demographic to already developed nations. With a strong education and an eagerness to see the world, many of these nations’ best and brightest leave the country to pursue work in other areas where they can enjoy more freedoms. Can you blame them? However, while I haven’t any data to back this up, I would guess that educated women are more likely to return home. I’m not sure whether it’s due to the matronly/care-giver gender role that women have developed over the centuries or what, but it’s sure hard to ignore the direct social impact generated from women’s education. It’s more like a springboard for the overall health and education of their families and local communities.

If you don’t know anything about Greg Mortenson or his mission throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan, look him up. It’s an inspiring story and one that will make everyone cherish their education, however little or much he/she has. So cheers to education in all corners of the world to men and women alike, and cheers to the important balance that our differences create.

In Good Company

Fact: life is better in good company -- company that “offers ease and thought and companionship as opposed to neatness, order, and properness” – John Steinbeck and Dwight Schrute. Perhaps I am merely reiterating a truism, but at least it’s a meaningful one.

Fresh off the plane from Guatemala, as I reflect on my trip, what stands out the most are the people: Dana. Kat, Carlos, Isabél, Machi and Bernardo. We got a lot of work done, but it would all be meaningless without the inherent “interconnectedness of humans with others” – Steinbeck again, Cannery Row, my entertainment for the return flight.

Carlos is just one of those individuals you like to be around. He’s courteous, thoughtful, smart, cooperative, a true humanitarian. At just 21, Carlos is a leader in his community, a hero. This past week he helped us find a home, quite literally. His uncle is building a beautiful home right in Chaquijyá, and Carlos helped convince him to let six random gringos (that’s us) who he has never met before, rent it for half the price that it is worth. Sincere solidarity.

Isabél, another Chaquijyá community member, dedicated her entire Sunday to ushering us around the well-known market in Chichicastenango. It was a long trip in the pouring rain, but she was genuinely eager to help. Without her, we would have undoubtedly gotten lost in the complex maze of fruits, meats, reggaeton CDs, and artesanía.

Machi is a young gentleman we encountered selling handmade jewelry on the main street in Panajachel. His hair, shoes, and thick accent screamed Argentina and we became fast friends. Kat and I mustered up the courage to invite him for drinks with us later (nearby locals were thoroughly amused as noted by excessive giggles) and he actually came! He brought his friend Bernardo along, adorned with a braided beard hehe. Although we were quite the unlikely matchup, coming from completely different backgrounds, the five of us had a blast chatting about life, liberties, and la incómoda.

Which brings me to Dana and Kat: true rock stars. The goals they have set out to accomplish over the coming year will touch the lives of many. Their selflessness and dedication will serve as role model behavior to hundreds of indigenous children. They are a shining example of compassion, benevolence, and joy, in a place and time of great need. We could all use an extra dosage of Dana and Kat in our lives.

Even the little things count, like being picked up from the airport by a loving mother and taken out for a much-needed American cheeseburger.

Although I believe in the strength of the individual, I would be nothing without all of you; we would be little without each other :)

Bienvenidos a Chaquijya

Mudslides have destroyed the humble abodes of twenty families in Chaquijyá. Why them? Why now? I feel the instant desire to scoop everyone off of their mud-caked feet and take them all to an easier place. Back in Guatemala, my heart has again begun to bleed and ooooh how that frustrates me sometimes. Frustrated because I do not have the time to turn into a rich-country, guilt-stricken wallower (new word). I think we have all seen enough of the depressing “I care” photos. While these have proven to be a successful marketing tactic for aid, they divert attention from a more functional agenda. Yes, monetary aid is good, and necessary, but it solves little. It’s another Band Aid; keeps things from falling apart.

Aid has become political, and somehow nearly all sides see the worst in it. Right-wingers see aid as a sort of international welfare contingency that serves the indolent, while left-wingers see aid as a means to support helpless victims. It’s all in perception. Two things I know for sure: they aren’t lazy, and we must stop treating them as victims. Sure, they’re victims of economic malfunction, but that does not mean that they cannot be an integral part of the solution.

I just finished a book called The Bottom Billion by Paul Collier, and he agrees: “we cannot rescue them. The societies of the bottom billion can only be rescued from within. In every society of the bottom billion there are people working for change, but usually they are defeated by the powerful internal forces stacked against them. We should be helping the heroes.” Hoorah asset-based development!

In Chaquijyá, the latter is a reality. Our heroes are the fourteen dedicated, young members of AsoAtitlán – an organization of the community, for the community. Kat, Dana, and I continue to realize a need to provide Manna programs for these heroes, not just young children. The internal force stacked against them is fondos, Spanish for funds. In many developing countries, convincing an indigenous population that continued education is invaluable proves a daunting task, most often for good reason (long story, won’t go into it now). But the convincing is not the issue in Chaquijyá. Most students here who wish to continue their education -- even past sixth grade -- cannot due to expenses. It costs between $75 - $100 per year; buildings need to be maintained, teachers paid, books purchased. If only we could offer every student a scholarship to attend high school… and then carrera… and then college… Somehow the families need a way to generate more income. Microcredit anyone? I need to think on it some more.

In other news, while in Panajachel I managed to have a bar tender change the channel from 80s music videos to the blackhawks game just in time to see us win in overtime…priceless.

For more detailed updates on our day-to-day proceedings, check out Manna’s blog as well
www.mpiguatemala.blogspot.com

Band Aids

So I’m Annie, 22, all-too-recently graduated from college, ready to take my first steps into the “real” world. Why society suggests the first twenty-odd years of our lives are mere simulation is beyond me, but it sure doesn’t inspire hope for what lies ahead. I am however quite optimistic. I have finally conned myself into thinking that starting this blog is a good idea (a little help from friends and insistence from concerned family members). So each week I’ll briefly chronicle my latest adventure, and smolder it with personal philosophies and the mental predicaments I tend to find myself in.

For starters, I leave tomorrow for Guatemala where I will be helping establish a new chapter of the organization for which I have volunteered somewhat tirelessly for the last four years. I am quite honored and thrilled to help. It’s called Manna Project International and I am in love with it; however, upon re-reading an old journal entry of mine, I found that I once referred to it as a Band Aid. What?

“Manna is a Band Aid, not a solution.” Ouch (no pun intended). Rather harsh criticism of an organization that believes in the power of asset-based development and services some of the poorest communities with its time, energy, spirit, and knowledge. Harsh, but arguably valid. Band Aids are temporary. But necessary… we can’t just abandon the wound while we wait for larger solutions. Band Aids have nothing to be ashamed of. They serve their due purpose. But has being a Band Aid hindered our foresight into the much larger, long-term movement to help these communities and individuals change their lives for the better?

Band Aids don’t get any of the glory, but somebody’s got to do it… right? In starting a new Manna chapter I take pride in being a Band Aid, but I’m not satisfied. We can do more and we’ve got a clean slate on which to do so. Perhaps more like a Band Aid with built-in Neosporin. One step at a time.

Oh, and go blackhawks