To Living with Palms Up and Ears Open

Garciela is my host family’s housekeeper and cook – la empleada. Every Monday through Thursday she cleans my room and cooks my dinner, becoming more like my Bolivian mother than my host mom. The last two months I have gotten to know Garciela well, my dearest friend I have met so far. We take turns back and forth: she asks a question about the USA, I ask a question about Bolivia.

July 14, 2016: Garciela and I delve deep, as she tells me of her migration to El Alto from her hometown campo near Lake Titicaca. She hates the campo. “There is nothing there. There are no jobs.” Her parents and son migrated with her. Now, she lives above Buenos Aires. She laughs and tells me I am too skinny but beautiful. “You need to be strong.” I ask her about Amaryan dress. “I’ve worn the traditional clothes since I was a little girl. My cousins wear pants, but I hope they will start wearing the skirts once they marry.” When I ask her about MAS, she pretends not to understand me. I know she does. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me your opinions, Garciela.” Her voice quiets, “I love MAS. Evo is the first to care about the poor and people like me. Your family and the rest of Zona Sur do not like him because they cannot discriminate anymore.” Her son is in a parade today – she smiled as she told me, because for the first time, she pays for his schooling completely, all on her own.

"Alexis, you are the first person like you who has cared about anything who has cared what I have to say." 

Then, we take out the dog (that we both equally hate) together. We walk out of my apartment at the same time as the Amaryan woman who cleans the apartment next to us, number 501. Garciela introduces me as her friend, and we all laugh the entire way down. 

And I wonder -- how is it that these women clean houses day after day, just as background pieces, never asked about their own homes or families or likes and dislikes? I want to believe no, but man, I do not want to be naive either. 

Out of everything I have experienced and everyone I have met, Garciela has been my greatest teacher. Through the fear in her voice as she chose to tell me her opinions on the government, she has shown me Bolivia's stark inequality, both of wealth and of social class,. Her willingness to take me in and teach me everything she knows has shown me the importance of empathy. The importance of open ears and an open mind, of the value of asking question after question, of trying to understand even when I don't. 

I love anthropology because it is teaching me the importance of human life. Of listening. Of caring. Of being willing to take the damn risk and break the boxes I have constructed to keep me safe. 

You know, I'm not sure if I have learned anything profound, just how to live a good life with friends who look nothing like me but have everything in common with me just the same.