Friday, July 15, 2016

Bolivian Campo Visit

     I thought as I lay in bed Tuesday night: “Bolivian Campo Status: one undershirt, three long sleeve t-shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a scarf, six blankets... and still cold.”
     Our short trip into the Bolivian campo was one of those opportunities you are really lucky to get to partake in. If I had come to Bolivia in nearly any other capacity, I wouldn’t have gotten to have this experience. A chance to see a large part of Bolivia’s identity, but which seems to simultaneously be neglected and overlooked.
     One of the most challenging parts of the trip to me was the thought that I have nearly everywhere I look here in Bolivia. Driving along these worn dirt roads, I can never get over the vastness of it all. The only thing that provides me with some landmark are the Andes rising from the horizon, though I can’t be sure at all how near or far away they really are. The Bolivian altiplano is one of, if not the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. The occasional pueblo towns only add to the allure.
     This thought, however, is also for me a source of confusion and sometimes even shame. While I do have (and often exercise) the right to appreciate natural beauty, as we come upon a town that has very limited access to potable water, a situation exacerbated by drought, and that feels forgotten by the government, can I still stand from the same place and use the word beautiful? I don’t want to construe that these factors make it lose its beauty. Rather, what right do I have to come from a city with abundant resources and to first note the town’s “beauty?” When we visited these people, the beauty of the town was not what they wanted us to take away. As I walked around the back of a church in a particularly vulnerable town, I was overcome by the omnipresent question- what can we do? The goal of the projects we visited aimed at sustainable work, driven from within the community.  And these projects seem to me pretty successful. Schools teaching a number of students that seems larger than the community in general. Constantly striving towards future goals in a way that is fun and engaging for students. What then leads to Morales’ distrust of NGOs in these communities? If not Suyana, are other programs as mindful of culture and autonomy? Is there any merit to Morales’ cynicism? Meanwhile, how have Evo’s plans differed from the structure of the NGOs? And if he has done little to address these concerns, where does his interest lie?

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