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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013


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Hello everyone,

So while I´ve posted two yaks, it turns out that the website has swallowed them never to return. Sigh...

Anyhow, since my last posting so much has happened! After our challenging time in the mines of Potosí, we journeyed south to Uyuni for three days in the salt and sand. The Salar was nothing if not beautiful. Although oversaid, the largest salt flat in the world evokes feelings of anachronism, being lost on Earth before the mountains were formed and the jungles grown. We began our tour in a small town outside of Uyuni, the de facto launching point for many Salar excursions. We slept in a salt hotel, with mattresses laid ontop of salt slabs, salty benches and tables on which to eat our seemingly salty llama and (of course) potatoes. There were many artisanal vendors around the town, catching the eye of many a tourist, selling everything from hats to pre-colonial slingshots, from the useless, misplaced carved elephants to hacky-sacks. We all felt slightly miffed at the barely hidden distinction of a server and a served; nearly every moment of our time on the flats felt orchestrated for us as observers, yet the immensity of the place perhaps both warranted and excused this. 

We learned a bit about the acquisition of the salt before heading out. The government allows collection of salt up to 5 kilometers into the flats, a minimal distance when compared to its 120x90 km dimensions. The high season for collection is the southern summer (November to February), which is their dry season. The workers pile the salt into conical shapes to help drain the excess water before shoveling the piles into truck beds. We soon were out on the salt and saw this in action, but to be fair, our attention was more occupied by the sweeping expanse of white, the near lack of a horizon, and the puffy cumulus clouds that seemed to fly eternally above the Salar like little kites on invisible strings. 

After a short while we were shuttled in our jeeps further out into the Salar, most of us riding on the bag racks atop the cars. Soon we were taking hilarious ¨perspective¨ shots, like freak dinosaur attacks or me on horseback. Later in the evening as the sun was setting we drove miles into the emptiness, finally arriving at the reflection pools. Due to recent rainfall, the water created a thin layer above the salt, acting as a perfect mirror, doubling our goofy poses and the dark blue and purple clouds in the glass surface that we seemed to be reflected upon. In the following days, we drove through orange deserts in search of red, green and white lagoons, the color of which was made by an interaction between the wind and the algae that lived in these oasis-like bodies of water, often at the feet of snow-capped mountains or volcanoes. We climbed on rocks in the shapes of mythical creatures and human likenesses, formed by an incessant wind with no natural features to buffet its strength. We walked among amazing natural geysers at sunrise, while most of us avoided getting sprayed by burning hot subterranean mud...

We returned to Uyuni sunburnt, nursing a few resilient colds, but glowing with happiness and awe at having see one of the most amazing natural sights in the world. Unfortunately we had little time to appreciate our pictures; we had a bus out of the wild-west town that is Uyuni (wide, dusty streets, a transient tourist population, and a thoroughly ´wild´ expanse of salt and sand to the west) 45 minutes after our return, so we were quickly hustling to find the elusive bus, find food, and get to the bathroom before the bus departed (the latter of which didn´t go so well... I ended up watching as our bus turned the corner without me, quite convinced that I´d be spending the night alone). Luckily (and unluckily) the bus returned, and I got to spend the next 7 hours battling the stubborn Bolivian man in front of me for the right to keep the window open, since the bus was positively sweltering. After connecting in the slightly depressing town of Oruro, a ghost of its previous wealth as a mining town, much like Potosí, we took vans to Cochabamba. This ride was considerably calmer than our bus adventure, despite seeing several huge passenger buses try to pass one another on hair-pin mountain road turns. Once in Cochabamba, we spent two nights at a hotel before beginning our homestays in Tiquipaya. 

As of two days ago, all of the students have successfully met and stayed with their new families, began Spanish classes, and have begun to get to know Tiquipaya, the town around which our homestays are located. I am staying with DoÅ„a Virginia and her husbang David, in a small house in the boonies of Callachulpa, a 15 minute bike ride over what should have been a road, but instead is a long pile of differently sized rocks... That´s not entirely fair; when not falling off my bike into ditches, much to the enjoyment of the neighbors, I really do enjoy the ride into Tiquipaya every morning for Spanish class. I was placed in a class with Profesora Carla, a wonderful Bolivian woman who lives in Cochabamba, and we spend our classes talking about family, politics, Bolivia and its eccentricities, as well as an occasional grammar refresher. Combined with the fact that Mama, David and their daughter Yani speak no English, my Spanish seems to be rapidly on the rise. 

Through the past several weeks, I´ve seen change in our group dynamic and in each person individually. Much in the same way as the salt was piled together to drain away unwanted water, our group has come together even more, consciously draining away the unwanted tendencies of a new group. We have fun together almost always, enjoying the individual personalities that give our group character, while knowing that the needs of the collective come first. Home is definitely missed, but know that we´re learning a ton about Bolivia and ourselves.

Ä„nos chequeamos!

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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Hola

Jack Kessler,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

Hello everyone, So while I´ve posted two yaks, it turns out that the website has swallowed them never to return. Sigh… Anyhow, since my last posting so much has happened! After our challenging time in the mines of Potosí, we journeyed south to Uyuni for three days in the salt and sand. The Salar was […]

Posted On

03/8/13

Author

Jack Kessler

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A few days ago we began our homestays. After having spent a lot of time together as a group we simultaneously jumped into the deep end of cultural immersion.

It is very hard to welcome a stranger into your home. Equally hard to make a good first impression but my host family did both flawlessly. In a few short hours I felt welcomed and loved by total strangers.

The first day I met my host family they invited me to my host mother´s 6 year old neice´s birthday party. No sooner had I put my bag down was I recruited to help. I waws amazed at how easily they integrated me into the party preparations. After blowing up and hanging som balloons they asked me to help with the cakes. (The cakes? But that´s the most important part!) As soon as we began I felt like I was part of the family. We laughed together when the homemade whipped cream sprayed everywhere, we panicked together when the cakes wouldn´t fit in the fridge, and we smiled when everything was done and all we had to do was wait for the guests.

I soon realized that this was not just a standard birthday party but a costume party. It was quite the production becase all the children seemed to come half-ready. Some need made-up or facepaint, others needed special hairdos, some didn´t even have costumes completely on yet. Finally the clump of witches, snow whites, and Little Red Riding Hoods was ready. They at some jello and waited anxiously for the entertainment: el payaso (the clown). Apparently clowns are a must-have a children´s birthday parties in Bolivia. As he came out I saw  mixture of glee, excitement, and fear. Some ran to great him, while others retreated, panicked to their parents. The clown did his act which invluded dancing games and balloon animals followed by a magic act where he seemed to produce doves and umbrellas out of thin air.

Finally it came time for the cake. Everyone gathered around the table and the birthday girl, Nevani, sat in front of the lit candle. Before the singing the parents, grandmother, and aunt (my host mom) gave toasts to the Nevani. They talked about how they hoped this party was everything she wanted. They expressed how they hoped she would grow up to be strong and smart. They explained how they hoped she would have a happy and healthy year. They told her how much they loved her. As everyone at the party smiled and sang I had trouble containing my emotions. Here was a girl surrounded by all those who loved her and they were all celebrating her. The moment reminded me of weddings and graduation parties of my friends and family at home yet somehow it meant just as much, if not more, to me to view that love and pride on the faces of strangers. Perhaps it was only the whirlwin of a busy day, but the love that Nevani´s family and friends showed for her was beautiful and contagious. It felt so real. It was not an awkward first meal with a host-family not really knowing what to say. It was pure, honest joy.

Needless to say that was the perfect introduction to my host family. In less than 6 hours I had me most of the family and witnessed them at one of their finest moments. I saw them laughing, crying tears of joy and sharing in celebration of their daughter, neiece, grandchild.

I am so excited to continue getting to know my family. I know they always say don´t judge a book by it´s cover, but in this case I will because the cover was incredible.

So next time you invite strangers into your home here´s how to welcome them: invite thme to your 6 year old neice´s birthday party. Show them the best, truest, happiest side of yourself.

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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How to Welcome a Stranger

Eliza Davis,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

A few days ago we began our homestays. After having spent a lot of time together as a group we simultaneously jumped into the deep end of cultural immersion. It is very hard to welcome a stranger into your home. Equally hard to make a good first impression but my host family did both flawlessly. […]

Posted On

03/8/13

Author

Eliza Davis

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  I close my eyes, imagine this place in our absense, in that moment before we roared up with our jeeps and blaring music, and I open my eyes to a world with no limits. The horizon and the sky merge together, the setting sun blows up in every direction with pink and red and orange, and my feet melt into the floor to become part of another world.  I feel the wind seep through every cell with its gentle vibrations and see the ripples it causes fall across the water and briefly disturb the perfect reflection of the sky above. A flock of birds breeze silently by, and I teach my eyes and ears to tune out the chattering and cars behind me to see this scene as it exists 99% of the time: alone, without us, simply existing in its brilliance and peace.

  These landscapes of the world exist in all their beauty whether or not we go and look for them. The brilliant scene in front of me in the middle of the largest salt flat in the world has no desire to be appreciated. The birds fly, the wind blows and the sun sets all the same. Every day during the rainy season this miracle occurs perfectly reflected on the vast flats covered in a thin layer of water; it´s only up to us to get out of our technological world with our humanly trials and tribulations and connect with the world we should be a part of.

  Simply the way this salt flat exists here, unknown to most of the world here in Bolivia, and the way the ancient mountains stand strongly through all of what we call the South American Andes, there is a sort of serene, timelesss power in them that shows a wise carelessness to our politics and wars.

  I find these moments, the ones where I sit in silence and let go of my physical body, I become more of myself as the natural world seeps into me. It is so vastly important, as I realize more and more every day, to forget money, jobs, and social situations every once in a while and just be. We are the most powerful in these moments, the most connected, the most centered.

  Connecting with the natural world is something our society forgets more and more every day. It is the moments I´ve had absorbing sunsets or walking trails or talking quietly to a friend on a mountaintop that inspire me to study Environmental Science in college and to join a program like Dragons. Empowered by these moments, we can reenter the world living more consciously. That is the power of landscapes.

Read more: http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarahdownsouth/1/1362241632/tpod.html?view=preview#ixzz2MrffgD4t

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Best Notes From The Field, Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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The Power of Landscapes

Sarah Gledhill,Best Notes From The Field, Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

  I close my eyes, imagine this place in our absense, in that moment before we roared up with our jeeps and blaring music, and I open my eyes to a world with no limits. The horizon and the sky merge together, the setting sun blows up in every direction with pink and red and […]

Posted On

03/7/13

Author

Sarah Gledhill

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  Guitar strung over my back and bike ready to go, I close the gate to the program house and start my journey home. I start the trip headed down the dirt road, pausing at the intersection to wait for a tractor to go by before continuing, a chicken clucking at my feet. I start the pedals again, entering into the forested pathway. I pass some of my fellow students' host mothers chatting on the side of the path, long black braids hanging down their backs just brushing their knee high traditional skirts, and exchange a neighborly¨buenas tardes¨ with a smile. Crossing another street and continuing straight once again, the road finally turns to the left into a rocky rollercoaster ride.

  I bump along on my bike meant for paved roads and see the sun setting to my right over a piece of land spotted by yellow flowers. Though wavering a little in my balance on this rocky road, I make it to the next turn. Jack and I usually cut through a cornfield to avoid the overflooded, muddy and uneven road, so I maneuver my bike over for the shortcut. Dodging the huge hole we always look out for on this part, I successfully make it without falling, still aboard the bike.

  The whole sky turns pink and orange around me, and I can still see the sun peeking out just over the horizon through the trees. But I'm almost home. I rejoin the path, guiding my bike up ramps to avoid mud ditches and slowly through the ones I can't circumvent. The turnoff to my street comes up, where I duck under eucalyptis trees that hang over the pathway and again bump along through another rocky part of the pathway.

  I get to the end, calling out a respectful ¨buenas tardes¨ to the old lady who always sits outside her house on the corner, and roll my bike to the house. I'm greeted by my ever so enthusiastic and beautiful host sisters, Fabiola and Claudia, who want to play guitar with me. I park the bike in its place, next to the brick wall, and we all head upstairs. I play what I had just learned in my first guitar lesson with Marcelo, a folkloric Bolivian song in the style of ¨Cueca.¨ They love it. Fabiola dances around my room singing as I play, and then they want to try. I try to show them a chord, but the two of them just strum the open strings, insisting on wearing my spare pair of glasses, singing ¨Mariaaaaa!, Mariaa!!¨Off we go laughing and dancing...

  Our mom calls us to say that dinner is ready, and we all go downstairs together where we found out the most exciting news. Today, there is a papaya. The juiciest and yummiest fruit possible. My host sisters beg and beg to eat the papaya now, and suddenly it dawns on Fabiola... JUICE! It was the most excitement I´ve seen in Cochabamba since I´ve gotten here. Mom gave in after ten minutes of pleading, begging, and even a few tears, Claudia runs off with 3 bolivianos to buy some milk for the juice, and we were in business. After a dinner of listening to the radio, laughing at Fabiola dancing all around the kitchen, and making chinese eyes at each other, we peeled some bananas to mix, cut the papaya, and plugged in the blender. Within a minute we were sipping on a papaya-banana blend juice.

 

And boy, was it sweet.

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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And Today, We Had Juice

Sarah Gledhill,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

  Guitar strung over my back and bike ready to go, I close the gate to the program house and start my journey home. I start the trip headed down the dirt road, pausing at the intersection to wait for a tractor to go by before continuing, a chicken clucking at my feet. I start […]

Posted On

03/6/13

Author

Sarah Gledhill

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We're 3 days into our homestays in the small town of Tiquipaya, and it's hard to believe that only a few days ago we were touring a beautiful national park of mesmerizing salt flats, mountains stratified with layers of rock, and lagoons full of flamingos. Such a short period of time (well, 10 hours of busing and taxiing through the night) has created such a huge change of setting! Life is slow here. I walk down streets with no names (to reference a song by Coldplay) to the program house each morning, and I am glad to finally be grounded - to be able to get to know a place instead of just be flabbergasted by it.
The night we were on the Salar salt flats, watching the sun set in both the sky and in the layer of rain water sitting on top of the salt, Julianne mentioned to me that she'd never seen the salt flats with water on them. "It's different, isn't it?" I said. "Yep." and she nodded. It was incredible that such a little thing - an inch-thick layer of probably the most fundamental substance on earth - could make such a big difference, could actually double the beauty of a sunset.
This intriguing dynamic of the little influencing the big became a constant theme in our tour of the park. For example, the remote feeling I often get when out in nature was exponentially increased simply by my walking off to pee and losing all sight of the road. And again, at the various lagoons we visited on our tour, all it took was some arsenic or zooplankton to turn the water green and red and convince me I was on another planet entirely. It was strange.
Maybe I have an over-active imagination. But then I again maybe I don't. What if I don't? What if all it takes to make a memory memorable is the little things? In my last yak I criticized Pico Iyer for depicting travel as one big intensely touching breathtaking life-changing  heart-stopping experience. Travel can be all that as a whole and in retrospect I guess, but in the moment of it it's all quite mundane. It's just seeing more of the same old thing called Life after all, but in a different place. Travel is worldly (see the root of mundane: "mun" or "mon", meaning "world"). It's the down-to-earth experiences, the nitty-gritty. It's the little things. But... what makes travel the intensely touching breathtaking life-changing  etc. etc. experience that it is is the fact that little things tend to have big impacts on us. I don't think I need to cite examples of this phenomenon to convince you that it's true. This is Life, not a term paper. And it's an encouraging thought, because if an inch of water can double the beauty of a sunset, imagine what a person can do in a lifetime.
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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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Little Differences

Maddie Shankle,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

We’re 3 days into our homestays in the small town of Tiquipaya, and it’s hard to believe that only a few days ago we were touring a beautiful national park of mesmerizing salt flats, mountains stratified with layers of rock, and lagoons full of flamingos. Such a short period of time (well, 10 hours of […]

Posted On

03/6/13

Author

Maddie Shankle

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We followed the 4X4 tracks imprinted in the salt cracked earth. They were our only guide for navigating the Salar de Uyuni. The expansive Bolivian salt flats stretch so far in each direction. It is hard to comprehend 10,582 square kilometers

 

Local men shovel rhythmically into the ground building tiny mountains of salt they will load onto the backs of their flatbed trucks and drive to the local town. There the salt will be processed and shipped to cities all over Bolivia where school children, women in traditional indigeous dress,and tourists like me will shake the tiny crystals onto their sopa y segundo.

 

There is something terrifying about the Salar. As we drive and drive and drive through the blinding white desert. I start to lose my sense of direction. Every way I stare begins to look the same. My mind wanders to the people who have been lost for months now on the salty abyss.

 

As the sun begins its descent we slow to a stop. I step out of the jeep and onto a thin layer of water that covers the blinding white ground during rainy season. The reflections in the water are quite literally heaven on earth.

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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Salar de Uyuni

Margot Solomon,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

We followed the 4X4 tracks imprinted in the salt cracked earth. They were our only guide for navigating the Salar de Uyuni. The expansive Bolivian salt flats stretch so far in each direction. It is hard to comprehend 10,582 square kilometers   Local men shovel rhythmically into the ground building tiny mountains of salt they […]

Posted On

03/5/13

Author

Margot Solomon

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Julianne's pictures and text delighted me by revealing such beauty. Her closing quotation from Thoreau reminded me of another, in which he describes a similar lake--Walden Pond--that reflects clouds just after a storm and reminds him of the nearness of a powerful spirit whenever we witness beauty in our natural surroundings:  

 

"A lake like this is never smoother than at such a time; and the clear portion of the air above it being shallow and darkened by clouds, the water, full of light and reflections, becomes a lower heaven itself so much the more important."  

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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More Thoreau

Linda Saarnijoki,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

Julianne’s pictures and text delighted me by revealing such beauty. Her closing quotation from Thoreau reminded me of another, in which he describes a similar lake–Walden Pond–that reflects clouds just after a storm and reminds him of the nearness of a powerful spirit whenever we witness beauty in our natural surroundings:     "A lake […]

Posted On

03/5/13

Author

Linda Saarnijoki

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Legend states that the Uyuni Salt Flats were formed by the mountain-goddess Tunupa when her heart was broken by that great deity of the Cordillera Real, Huayna Potosí.  Abandoned by her lover, Tunupa also soon lost her child and fled to the northern reaches of the Atacama Desert, on the western flank of the Central Andes.  Her grief took hold of the land, and she wept a river of tears and breast milk that soon became a sea.  Tunupa can still be seen peering out over the northern bank of her sorrow-formed ocean of white, a lonely and distant volcano in search of her long-lost son.

 

Every semester I hesitate about taking my students to visit the renowned Salt Flats that fan out like a sea of milk across Bolivia’s southwestern border with Chile.  Situated at approximately 12,000 feet above sea level with an expanse of over 5,000 square miles, the Salar de Uyuni is surely one of the most isolated and majestic places on earth.  From the middle of the Salar, where depth becomes infinite and the landscape loses its familiar shapes and contours, one feels as if transported to another planet.  Hexagonal salt tiles stretch out below as far as the eye can see, in some places up to 66 feet in thickness, and the sky becomes a dizzying, enveloping second sea of blue.  Underneath the surface lies 50-70% of the world’s lithium reserves. 

 

Loading up in three 4x4’s we spent three days traversing the Salar and nearby national park.  We drove through deserts and mountains, around surreal rock fields painted by the wind, past glistening lagoons and skies tinted pink by the wings of Andean flamingoes.  We slept in hotels made from salt, and on the last day arose before dawn to witness sulfur geysers highlighted by the first rays of sun. 

 

While indeed spectacular, the tour of the Salt Flats is a long and rugged journey.  Volcanic peaks take you above 15,000 ft., and desert winds rip through the open landscape.  The adventure requires long days enclosed within a bouncing vehicle, and the heat of the sun scorches the desert earth.  As instructors, we worry about heat-stroke, altitude sickness, and boredom.  We also hope that this journey into the folds of time will present opportunities for reflection – of ourselves as well as of the world around us.  Dragons strives to remove us from our everyday surroundings, to immerse us in the unknown and magical where we may be confronted with truer versions of ourselves. 

 

This trip presented my third journey to the Salar de Uyuni, and I felt I had already come to know this distant landscape.  I could not have been more mistaken.  At the end of the first day as we sped across the seemingly endless surface of the salt lake, we suddenly found the world reflected below our feet, as if in looking down we were falling through space.  There is a brief moment of the year, when the heavy summer rains begin to recede and the Salar is once again accessible, when the surface of the salt flat becomes a perfect mirror reflecting the sky above. 

 

It was a true gift to share that moment with my students this semester.  And I hope that in some way, we all found reflected on the surface of the salt lake truer and more beautiful visions of ourselves.

 

"A lake is a landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature.  It is Earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature."

-Henry David Thoreau 

 

 

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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Reflections of ourselves

Julianne Chandler,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

                                                                                                              […]

Posted On

03/4/13

Author

Julianne Chandler

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    I am 16 years old. My name is Susana, and 5 years ago I started my job in the market selling goods. I get up every day to buy toilet paper, matches and school supplies to sell them in the market for a very small profit. I might make a dollar a day, split between my friend and I. I go to school in the mornings, and many of my classmates work in the Cerro Rico, one of the biggest mines in the world. My little brother will start working there next year, when he turns 8. I don't know if I will go to college or start working in the market full time, but I want to study to become a schoolteacher. I have never left my city, but would love to see the world.
    Could I, a 19 year old US American who grew up in a nice, suburban neighborhood, raised with a top knotch private education and given every opportunity in this world, really immerse myself in what it feels like to be 8 years old, getting up every day to work in a mine that will surely kill me by the age of 40? Or to be 16, an experienced worker for 5 years, not knowing what I will do after high school? On any type of travel - and I say travel, not vacation - we strive to know the place and experience it as the locals do. Many of us even measure our success traveling by how much we "get off the touristic route," but after touring the mines of Potosi and following a 16 year old around selling toilet paper and matches for a day, I ask myself if it would ever really be possible to see the world through Susana's eyes.
    We as US Americans are accustomed to a life of "Western Conveniences." We live in a rich country that has the priveledge of making laws against child labor and for protecting the environment. In Bolivia, the child laborers fight for their right to work. The Child Labor Union is so organized here in Bolivia that they have secretaries, presidents, office spaces, and file systems completely run by kids ages 7 to 17 at every level from local to national. They know their rights, they helped write a law on Child Labor, and they, even at 7 years of age, understand that to change Bolivia for the better, each and every one of them has to strive to stop exploitation and create more independence within the country.  Imagining a world in which they had enough money to even want to stop child labor is almost unspeakable. 
    Our Dragons group met up with the child labor union here in Potosi and paired up with them for a day to work. We had this group of Americans go out and shine shoes with 7 year olds, wash cars with 10 year olds and work on construction sites with 15 year olds. I look back to when I was 7, a measly little second grader whose biggest problem was waiting for recess to start. When I was 10, a fifth grader, I was only preoccupied with the intimidating world of middle school and who had a crush on who. Even at 19, now, my parents don't need me to work to support the family, but I work to pay for my own outlandish desires like taking a gap year or going to a music festival.
    I guess what I'm getting at is really that we don't realize where we're from until we put on a headlamp and squeeze through holes, breathe the dust and experience the lack of sunlight that are the working conditions of 7 year old miners in Potosi, and that it truly is a prissy first world priviledge to travel, open our minds, reflect on ourselves and experience other cultures when most of the population on this world will die never having left their country.
    I become more and more thankful for my opportunity to see the world as this gap year continues. Though I can never really sympathize or fully experience the lives of the people who live here, simply realizing the priviledge of taking a year off to find myself, see the world and travel is a big step in Global Citizenship. I find myself constantly humbled by the world around me, and I hope that these experiences never cease to do so as I live consciously in this world.

Read more: http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarahdownsouth/1/1361790951/tpod.html#ixzz2LvidKcG8

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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A City Wrecked by Silver

Sarah Gledhill,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

    I am 16 years old. My name is Susana, and 5 years ago I started my job in the market selling goods. I get up every day to buy toilet paper, matches and school supplies to sell them in the market for a very small profit. I might make a dollar a day, split between my friend […]

Posted On

02/25/13

Author

Sarah Gledhill

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    [post_author] => 30
    [post_date] => 2013-02-25 00:00:00
    [post_date_gmt] => 2013-02-25 07:00:00
    [post_content] => 

Dear Friends and Family, 

 

I hope you enjoy our yaks from Potosi. After a few days here exploring the colonial history of Bolivia, talking to miners, partnering with a child labor union and visiting a pristine hot spring called "The Eye of the Inca", we are heading off to the Salar de Uyuni. We will be exploring the massive salt flats for 3 days. During our visit, we will discussing the Lithium project, visiting a train graveyard and sleeping below the stars in salt hotels. 

 

We won't have access to intenet or phones, but can't wait to share our stories and photos when we return.

 

Abrazos,

 

Group A  

 

 

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Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

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Departing for the Salar de Uyuni

The Instructors,Andes & Amazon "A" Semester, Spring 2013

Description

Dear Friends and Family,    I hope you enjoy our yaks from Potosi. After a few days here exploring the colonial history of Bolivia, talking to miners, partnering with a child labor union and visiting a pristine hot spring called "The Eye of the Inca", we are heading off to the Salar de Uyuni. We […]

Posted On

02/25/13

Author

The Instructors

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