Exhausted ethnography

How does one return to normal, after having lived a different normal? Norms and standards of living. The norms are always changing. But launching from Bolivia and heading back to Oxford, Mississippi? A ver, what a difference. My heart is stuck in the transfer tube, half in this Bolivian reality, being pulled to the next. I’m going to miss good bread, though I’ll be happy to have vegetables again. I’m going to miss the ease with which they share affections and show feelings. Or maybe that’s the other way around. Whatever. Point is we’re transplanting from one social norm to another, and it gives me questions. The importance of home, for instance. To have a community. What do those things mean? What makes somewhere home? Is it all about comfort? Having passed multiple, every-day-life weeks in multiple countries now casts Mississippi in a new light. To really have appreciated its wonders and woes, I needed the separation.

So how do ethnographers do it? Cultural anthropologists that have two homes? A fieldwork and a house? A family and a family studied? There’s so much reflexivity in it, so many ways to become invested. Going local. We’re all human in this; we can all relate. We are all light, just cast through a prism. I’m green, studying orange, but we’re the same. I guess that’s why all of this is so interesting and hella hard at the same time.

I guess I’m reflecting. I’m entering my final week in Bolivia, and I’m entering it fresh from a course in social science that has left me molten at core. I have thesis work to do. I have all these questions. What about comfort? What about home? What about norms? What we “get used to” can be extreme depending on the lens. Guns in the USA, none here. Living at home until 28 here, leaving at 18 in there. Is there a better way to live buried in any of this?

Everyday Anthropology

My last post and my last day in La Paz – I am dumbfounded by how quickly my time went, overjoyed by how much I’ve learned, and amazed by how much love I have received from the city over the course of the last two months. Minibus rides, Heladería Sandra, anticuchos de Calle 21, salmonella in my bloodstream, 3:00am stars on the altiplano. It’s funny how experiences shape us, how I am a little different now, better, more empathetic.

We’ve talked a lot over the last four weeks about how social science is so hard, yet so rewarding, because we are delving in to study the human. And humans are fragile and strong and fickly and set, all simultaneously. I think that's what makes all of this so fun. 

Over the course of the past month, especially, I started to see my interactions with people in a different way. I found myself sitting on the minibus, observing going what was happening around me, asking what these seemingly ordinary things can tell me about a greater society. Or maybe I was eating with my family and wow, I notice an action that tells me a little more about class inequality in Bolivia. Even statistics, I've learned a lot about what numbers can tell me about greater happenings. 

I've started calling it everyday ethnography, the poignant art of listening and noticing and observing. I'm reading a book on education in Bolivia right now: they called their methodology "convivir, dialogar y compartir" (live with, dialogue, and share) -- I like that. And I think that is why I am starting to love anthropology so much -- I am realizing the ways in which we all want to tell our stories and truths, and anthropology, at least to me, seems to be a place where lives are uplifted and tried to be understood. 

Bolivia gave me a lot, but if it gave me anything in full it was the practice of empathy, the art of asking a good question, and the importance of then listening. 

Bolivian Beauty Ideals

When my little cousin held up my wrist and told me I needed to engordar (gain weight), I didn't think much of it.  People say that in the states too. It was just strange coming from a 10 year old.  But when I learned that cholitas wear layers of skirts in order to appear thicker in the hips, I realized that being larger here is good. Being hefty in Bolivia is a sign of power and prominence.  Which is so the opposite from many other western ideals of beauty. When I went to France last year, I constantly listened to my host sisters and mothers talk about losing weight, wishing they were smaller, and not wanting to eat as much.  As a big proponent of positive body image, I couldn't stand it.  But in Bolivia, it's necesitas engordar when you are at healthy, normal weight.  It's still not entirely "positive" body image, but it's better than what American and other women are used to. 

Why is it so different here?  How can we explain traditional definitions of beauty that still influence modern society? And how do women see themselves? I wonder how prevalent eating disorders are here, too.  I've hung out with Bolivian female dancers, some of the most body conscious people, and it seems to me that there is not huge concern with being "skinny." It may have just been the people I was with, but generally speaking they did not discuss dieting, not eating, or exercising. I'm sure there's individuals here like that, but for the most part I really haven't experienced that kind of attitude. Whereas at my old sorority house in the US, this was constant lunchtime chatter. And if you didn't contribute to shaming yourself, it was considered strange or even rude.  All I know is that I like this better and that it's been a nice break here being around people who don't give a damn about their weight.  Thanks women of Bolivia, keep doing what you want. 

Better feminism?

Something I’ve reflected on more than once while experiencing Bolivia is the self-asserted “correctness” of the “Western” model of development. I’m not speaking towards economic development models at the moment (though there is certainly content to be discussed there). I’ve been pondering more the crossing and conquest of modern cultures and ontologies. For example, feminism. In the post-modern age identity has become increasing removed from long-standing social norms. What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? These cultural shifts are just that – changes in culture. Not all cultures are the same. One cultures values aren’t necessarily correct, something that is forgotten frequently in the United States. 

Back to feminism now. What it means to be a woman in Bolivia isn’t necessarily the same as what it means to one in the United States. Just because the United States is changing doesn’t mean Bolivia must too. Just because the United State is changing, doesn’t also signify the change is for the better. Relativity.

We visited an NGO that worked with women this past Monday. Centered in El Alto, women could come in and take seamstress (I know that’s a ‘feminine’ word please remain calm) and cooking workshops. On the day we visited, they were learning how to make traditional Aymaran woman’s clothing. In the kitchen they were baking cakes. There was a daycare for their children. A popular radio station has broadcasted their ideals for years now. Many of the minibuses listen to their station.

In this feminism, a place is reserved for women. They strengthen their identity, reinforce what they know. Alternatively, in the more metropolitan areas of La Paz, Feminina stores, letters of emblazoned pink, have started popping up, selling lacy undergarmets and other "feminine" products. Start contrast to the intricate skirts made in the NGO's workshops. In the United States, the media coverage of feminism often only shows the other extreme, that women are raging against the system to achieve some ideal of equality, tossing out old identifiers. Free the nipple. And entirely different response to the gender's norms. Surely, history and previous social norms play a large role in current feminisms. Birth control as freedom in the US, birth control as patriarchy and control in some indigenous feminist circles here. Puritanism, indigenous-colonial norms. I think all of this raises profoundly interesting questions about values and truth. Can we be sure that one way, one method, one belief, is better than another? 

Life lessons from Bolivia

As my time in Bolivia comes to an end, I can confidently say the past few days have been some of my hardest. We started our last week of class learning statistics. Spoiler alert- I am absolutely horrible at statistics. I don't understand it. And as hard as I try, I'm not sure if I ever will. For our weekly assignment, we were given a set of five questions to complete by Friday. Should be easy right? Today's Friday and I'm here to tell you that was far from the case. 

After class on Monday we went straight to the cafe, optimistic that with a head start on the assignment we could knock it out. Little did we realize that by Wednesday we would have only completed two of the five problems. Almost three days of working on two problems you can only imagine how overwhelmed we were. Thursday rolls around and I get home from class to find my computers crashed and 99% of my work deleted. It took me a few minutes (ok more like a hour) to compose myself, but with a pep talk I knew the homework had to get done and that I could do it. 

This morning I was confident. It was our last day of class and I was ready to finish this assignment. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but that I could do it. I arrived at the cafe after class, ready to knock our the remaining questions, and I open my computer to a flashing file. This was it. My computer had officially crashed. There was no looking back now-panic was sinking in. I quickly realized that there was nothing I could do. I couldn't fix this problem until I returned to America. I had to step back and let it go. 

Spending four weeks in Bolivia has taught me a lot. Throughout the month we have steadily learned about the many obstacles Bolivia and its people have faced. My personal obstacle dealing with the meltdown of my computer was so trivial in comparison to the trails of Bolivia's past and present history. The country and people of Bolivia don't give up, and through learning its history that's become extremely clear. Being emerged in the rich culture and history of Bolivia for the past month has truly presented me with an immense appreciation for Bolivia and its people. In the United States this is something that so many people, included myself completely take for granted, forgetting about the history and culture that defines our nation- only to get caught up in the minor (and in this case, fixable) obstacles brought upon by material possessions. Bolivia has reminded me that life's not about getting upset over the small things, but rather being grateful and celebrating the big things. And for that I'm eternally thankful. 

Gregoria Apaza

This week we had the opportunity to visit the nonprofit organization, Gregoria Apaza, in El Alto. Before our afternoon visit, the founder of this organization came and spoke to our class. Although I know very minimum Spanish, she presented a slide show, which was very interesting discussing the history of female involvement in Bolivian legislation. I was excited to visit her organization in El Alto as from what we were told, it was providing amazing opportunities for the female communities of El Alto and La Paz. As we made our close to an hour taxi ride to the city of El Alto, I was growing quite anxious about the upcoming experience at Gregoria Apaza. 

While some of my classmates love El Alto, for me, based on its outer appearance; it's truly a difficult city to spend time in as it largely represents the immense poverty within this area of Bolivia. Each time I travel up the mountain to El Alto and into the city, I honestly have no idea what I'm about to witness from the backseat of the taxi. With that being said, I guess it's only natural that I was having anxiety about our visit at Gregoria Apaza. Even though I was hesitant, the visit to Gregoria Apaza ending up being one of the greatest and most influential experiences of my time in La Paz. 

Upon arrival at Gregoria Apaza, we were greeted with smiling faces, who were beyond excited to tell us about the wonderful things happening within this five flight industrial building. What was so inspiring about this nonprofit was that they were empowering women within a community historically dominated by men, to create a better future through the gift of education- not only for themselves but their children. During our visit, we had the opportunity to visit three classes where women were sewing beautifully detailed clothing and baking delectable pastries. They were proud of their creations, as they absolutely should be. 

Obviously once we left I couldn't help but further think about this organization as a safe haven for women and their children, as many of their services help women not only politically and economically, but with the seriously neglected issue of domestic violence. The director of Gregoria Apaza told us that within the country on Bolivia there's only eight locations for women who are victims of domestic violence, one of which was Gregoria Apaza. During my time in Bolivia I have come to believe that President Morales doesn't really exemplify a proper respect for women. Learning about some of the scandals that have taken place during his presidency with extremely young women (or girls, as some would argue), could easily provide the argument that his public lack of respect for women within Bolivia has provided an example for the men in this country on what is considered the "acceptable" way to treat women. I can only imagine the difficulty Erika Brockmann faced when founding this organization, but with hardships comes blessings. Gregoria Apaza is truly a blessing for El Alto and La Paz, providing an environment of support and empowerment- ensuring a better future for the female community that's been neglected for so many years. 

Who is the father

On Tuesday afternoon we went to the center that tracks all of the births, deaths, marriages, and voter eligibility, among other things, in Bolivia. They have a national database for all of the Bolivian citizens. When a person is born or dies, someone must report it to this center to be recorded. One thing that really sparked my interest is how people name their children here: a baby takes its mother's and father's last name for a double last name. So, what do you do if you have a child but you're not married? Well, in the days of old, women in Bolivia had to mark that their child was born without a father, and that stayed on the child's record. This is a disgrace in Bolivian culture, and women did not want to have their children marked if they were without a husband. Even if a child was born to a couple but they were not married, then the father could 'claim' the child, but the child would still be marked as born to an unwed couple. However, the child would have two last names. This all sounds very complicated just to register your baby into the Bolivian system.

Also, this all sounds very complicated on the mother's part. This system places blame on and stigma around the mother of the child if she was not wed when she gave birth. Even if having a child out of wedlock were a real issue, then the man still had a child out of wedlock, too! The woman should not have to bear any shame for having a baby, and she definitely should not have to face that alone. Class A example of patriarchy.

Alas! Bolivia has moved forward in women's rights and has worked to correct this problem to some extent. If a woman has a child out of wedlock and the father will not claim the child, then she can just put down the father's name regardless of his consent. If she does not want to put down the name of the father, then she can mark the child as 'natural born,' which is less stigmatizing than the previous indicator that was more along the lines of 'bastard child.' If the father really does not want to take responsibility for the child, then he can undergo the process of having DNA paternity testing done to prove that the child does not belong to him to have his name removed.

This is a step forward for gender equality in Bolivia, but I do think it still has some implications. I would be worried that some people would falsely or mistakenly put down the wrong name of a man who truly is not the father of this child, and now he is legally responsible for the kid. I personally think they should just remove the title of 'natural born' altogether, and then the woman could just give both of her last names to her child.