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Plaza San Blas

This blog post is a compilation of observations, thoughts and notes from Plaza San Blas, a central plaza in la Villa 21-24, where I focused my research. I spent many days sitting on the planter beneath a pine tree here either waiting for a meeting, writing up notes, or seeking subjects for my surveying.

Plaza San Blas is located in the middle of the villa, bordered on one side by Osvaldo Cruz (a main thoroughfare), on another by a cargo railroad line, and on the remaining two sides by small neighborhood streets. Less than one block away is the site where hundreds of families were relocated out of the camino de sirga (the polluted banks of Matanza-Riachuelo river).

It’s not immediately obvious that the railroad tracks are still operational based on how close the vehicles and buildings are to the tracks. However, sure enough a cargo train plows through a couple times per day, clearing nearby houses by only a foot or so. Ironically, these same residents can’t walk to any nearby subway or passenger train stations, but have to walk out of the way of industrial trains in their community.

A variety of businesses look out onto the plaza: a to-go food mart; a lunch restaurant; a kiosk; a supermarket; a government-run health center; and Fundación Temas, a nonprofit dedicated to providing social programs for the villa, such as education, health, sports, culture and housing (that were also very helpful in my project). These businesses keep Plaza San Blas constantly lively and bustling with activity. Men take breaks from their work or wait for customers in the doorways of their businesses, looking out at the children playing. Parents pass through on their way to retrieve kids from tutoring programs at the Fundación Temas casita or waiting for kids on the play structure. I’m reminded of Jane Jacobs’ concept of “eyes on the street” as I notice that I feel safe and relaxed here, deep in a neighborhood thought to be the “most dangerous villa in Buenos Aires” (La Nacion 2015).

One such man that I spoke to had lived with his family and owned a foundry and metal working studio for the last thirty years. From his spot leaning against the door frame, dogs at his feet, he recalled standing in the same spot but seeing entirely basurales (landfill) where the rows of houses now stand across the plaza. He remarked proudly that he helped create the plaza by organizing his neighbors to not build on those plots (and made sure they left him a driveway in the middle of the plaza). His sense of pride for having helped to shape his community is apparent and admirable. Later, the City of Buenos Aires supported this grassroots land use planning by investing to install the plaza’s current infrastructure: a soccer court, playground, benches and other infrastructure.

Although the plaza was created from ground-up organizing of local residents, power dynamics on this plot of land have since shifted. One small hut in the center houses a handful of Federal Police officers at any hour of the day. They occasionally run to their cars and take off with sirens, apparently responding to calls or nearby incidents. Their constant presence throughout the villa, armed and looking around aimlessly, was alarming and uncomfortable to me at first but has likely become normalized for local residents.

Plaza San Blas is primarily full of movement, a meeting point and thoroughfare in the Villa 21-24. While visually filled with dirt, mud and recycled materials (and once, a dead kitten), the atmosphere of the plaza can only be described as upbeat and lively. Smells of home-cooked food and sounds of music, dogs barking and children playing emanate from nearby residences and fill the space. People slow their pace as they pass through the plaza, greeting others and letting kids run about. After spending the majority of my time in the central city where strangers stay engaged with their phones to avoid eye contact or interaction with those around them, my hours spent in the Plaza San Blas were a refreshing change of pace.

[saludosamigoss-blog]

How to be an environmentalist?

What a wild day! Sometimes I feel like I’m on a Make-Your-Own-As-You-Go Study Abroad program and not doing very well at creating it, but today was exciting. In fact, I would even recommend it to actual study abroad programs.

As part of the Amigos de la Tierra (chapter of Friends of the Earth that very kindly agreed to work with me) calendar of events, I went to a festival at a campus of UBA that houses the Facultad of Arquitectura, Diseño y Urbanismo and La Facultad de Ciencias Exactas y Naturales. And it also houses a community-made forest / eco-village called Velatropa, where the festival was. And La Reserva Costanera del Norte, one of two natural open spaces on the Rio de la Plata that is managed by the City of Buenos Aires, and is across a small river from the university / Velatropa, and seems to function completely separately but in a complementary way.

Velatropa is, in a nutshell, a community of students and faculty who took a piece of unused and trashed land that was on the UBA campus and, without any funds, using only volunteer power and recycled materials, transformed it into a small eco-community. An organization called Juntos Somos Un Bosque (”Together We Are A Forest”) played a big part in this transition; they hold festivals based on the premise that if everyone brings and plants one (mature, native) tree, then you will soon have a thriving ecosystem. The festival I attended today (well, yesterday now) was another one of those events (unfortunately, I did not bring a tree). They are touted as an example of how communities can take initiative to create their own green space, rather than sit standby and wait for the government to designate and create a park. Right now, they are fighting both the UBA system and the City of Buenos Aires for official recognition as a public park and a contractual promise to help with preservation and maintenance.

The articles that I have read about Velatropa refer to it’s members as the “ones who gave life to this space”, and today it’s very clear that this space is alive with both vegetation and energy. They now have a thriving garden, art installations, ongoing workshops for the public and space for students to test out sustainability-related innovations and projects. A rotating group of 15-20 students live there to take care of the grounds (and cook vegan meals apparently, as one resident told me “no se permite comer carne aqui” / “eating meat’s not allowed here”). Amigos de la Tierra was invited to set up a table among a few other vendors who came with responsibly sourced food products, so I helped run that for the early afternoon. Sitting on the dirt behind a low table with soap / ketchup / jam / wine / banana bread / sugar / carrot mayonnaise, I learned about how Amigos de la Tierra supports local sustainable producers by taking their products around to different Ferías de Consumo Responsable and selling them in exchange for a 20% cut. Young Argentine folks with facial hair and wide linen pants offered samples of some Argentine berries (wish I could provide a name but I forgot it) and talked about how people don’t value seeds enough (”because a few seeds today could be a surplus of fruits tomorrow”) and about how colonialism changed the Argentine diet. The four women I was with, three Argentine employees of Amigos de la Tierra and one Finnish student, passed around a mate and some walnuts.

Now, sitting next to the river up against a tree, decompressing and writing this in purple gel pen while I wait for Michael to come join me, thinking about how interesting it is that I’ve ended up here. Despite the current right-wing government, I have been warned about the presence of progressive and very left-wing folks in Argentina, so I’m not surprised to run into a community of self-proclaimed hippies. I am surprised by the route that I took to get here: by starting my project on one of the most environmentally-disastrous and socioeconomically-disadvantaged neighborhoods of the greater Buenos Aires area. What does it say that the same (six-person) organization that will support me throughout my study of the petrochemical industry also sets up camp at events like these every weekend? What a juxtaposition of worlds- the lush vegetation here, buena onda abound, emphasis on natural harmony... Compared with the mind-boggling industrial infrastructure and communities just fighting for police protection, potable water and electricity.

Surely the people at the Juntos Somos Un Bosque festival today identify as environmentalists, as do I. And to me, one of the biggest environmental issues of our time is the hugely powerful oil and gas industry and its immense contamination of soil, water and air. The root of my inner dialogue stems from the fact that, among many environmental groups, there is not very often a focus on addressing these atrocities but rather a community of positivity and emphasis on changing your personal behavior through actions like donating, becoming vegetarian or purchasing sustainably-sourced baked goods. While also important, this narrative seldom seems to address the systemic and institutional-level ways in which our government and economy support the petrochemical industry. 

So the young people at Velatropa and activists fighting for environmental justice in fence-line communities are all environmentalists, maybe working towards the same goal from different ends. What is the relationship between their efforts? Will more community-led natural spaces like this eventually help disadvantaged and contaminated communities in some way? I’m spilt between yes: projects like these raise awareness of environmental issues and encourage government to prioritize green space, and no: we may ultimately see the northern half of the city frolicking with vegetarians and organic gardens and the folks in the south will still have lead-contaminated landfills instead of parks. 

Theoretically, anyone could do this. Which inspires the thought exercise: how would a space even play out in the south of the city, where there is less green space and less money to create it? Thinking back to Channelview, some of my homies in the Sierra Club have worked very hard to restore prairies along the Houston ship channel. And yet I wonder how much prairie construction in the ship channel is useful if our environment is still being destroyed by energy giants, and if these efforts could be better spent. Certainly both are needed, but what balance? How do you work on both simultaneously without feeling an immense privilege and confusion? How do they work together? Why do they never exist in the same area?? Is this just me trying to legitimize my work and feel like it’s valuable???

@all please report back if you have any thoughts on the topic, appreciate you all, will send more updates soon... All in all, good Saturday, very glad to have had this experience to be outside, learn about a Buenos Aires community and see a girl wearing a recycled pill container hanging from her earrings. You go, girl.

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Medium-length and fairly hasty summary of Argentine politics

Warning: the length of this will probably surpass your expectations. Sorry ☹

This prompt comes at a welcome time, as I (admittedly; this was supposed to be written before I left) arrived a few days ago and am feeling excited to learn about some of the things happening in Argentina right now. When I first arrived in Buenos Aires, I noticed almost immediately that it seems like socio-political issues play a large role in porteño society; from the graffiti you see on the street, to conversations overheard, to musicians on the subway talking about youth living in poverty. Just this morning on a walk I passed a huge tent in front of the Congress building that was devoted to encouraging folks to boycott Pepsico–complete with t-shirts, buttons, petitions and examples of things produced by Pepsico. And politics here doesn’t necessarily play a large role in the sense that American politics does, which seems increasingly divisive, negative and angry. Not only does Argentina seem to be more politically active than America, but their political spectrum also leans far more to the left than the US’s (as if that takes much nowadays). A really interesting and fundamental movement of Argentine politics is based on “peronism”- hold your breath here, more elaboration on this to come.  

What is “peronism”? I spent quite a while with the same question, and have this rough answer for you: a kind of political idology that Argentine politics have been based around since the time of Juan and Eva Perón (which began in the 40s). The fundamentals of Peronism are about having a powerful leader that helps to unite the people and bring up the masses, usually by incorporating some kind of economic nationalism and welfare programs. In practice, though, the policy decisions of Peronists have shifted throughout the years and politicians that identify as Peronists can come from all points along the political spectrum.

As you might expect, the whole Peronist thing can play a big role in elections. It seems as though Peronism is mostly supported by the poorer parts of the Buenos Aires providence. Which creates a really interesting dynamic within Argentine politics, because since the providence of Buenos Aires contains about 40% of the total population of Argentina, the region plays a big role. If a non-Peronist is elected to the Casa Rosada (“pink house”; Argentina’s presidential palace), then the Peronist mayors from Buenos Aires will make it almost impossible for him or her to get anything done. This balance of power between the national and city government is one of the main questions that dictate the Argentine political spectrum; folks here discuss politics by identifying themselves as supporters or opponents of one of these two governments. 

Alright now that we have that necessary background, lets talk about Argentine (Argentinian? Who knows) politics right now. The 2015 elections set Argentina in a new direction as the mayor of Buenos Aires, Mauricio Macri, beat the candidate who was endorsed by the incumbents (the very Peronist Kirchners). He ran on the platform of reversing some of the economic controls that the Kirchner couple implemented during their presidencies and aligning the Argentine economy more with the U.S. and Europe. He is expected to get resistance from the more Peronist congress but that may change as of the October 2017 legislative elections if politicians within his alliance (“Cambiemos”; Let’s Change) are projected to win in many providences.

Now for the question you’ve all been waiting for... What does this mean for the oil and gas industry!? You guessed it- foreign investment in the energy industry in Argentina! In 2011, the energy giant YPF here discovered the Vaca Muerte shale- a huge oil and gas reservoir in central Argentina, which had the potential to propel the country in to the global energy scene... except the previous presidents weren’t too keen to collaborate with giant multinationals from the United States and Europe. Macri though is coming in and claiming he’ll change the game to incentivize international investment in extraction from this deposit and, in his first two years in office, has already done a bit of this. A big announcement came out in January 2017 that international oil and gas companies that had pledged to invest $5 billion in Argentina this year (but potentially $15 billion in the next few years) after Macri made the unions promise to reduce labor costs. Ah... You win some you lose some. 

Anyways need to wrap this whole spiel up but the increased extraction of raw materials from central Argentina means those things need to be refined or processed or otherwise made into something useful before being shipped off from the Port of Buenos Aires. So that has some obvious implications in terms of the petrochemical manufacturing around the southern Buenos Aires region and the neighborhoods I’ll be studying in my project and all that... Stay tuned for some more deets on this. I would tell you now but I don’t necessarily have them. On a personal note, all is going well and I’m quite excited to move into a private room on Sunday instead of continuing to live in a  hostel. Thanks for reading ☺

[saludosamigoss-blog]

~~~~ global cit’zens ~~~~

Ah... Global citizenship. A term you might hear often if you fraternize with serial hostel jumpers, repeat study abroad-ers or generally those who place travel and international experiences as a top priority. Which is apparently me because I have found myself leaving the great United States of America more times than I would have expected in the last few years.

Well, have you ever wondered what being a global citizen really means or how you can become one? Me too! Look no further, though, as George Walker has answers for us! (Who is George? Google tells me he’s a guy that has worked quite a lot within Europe’s government and schools on international education. Fair enough, seems like a good source). In “Educating the Global Citizen,” George talks about what a global citizen is and how we can help encourage young folks to become them through secondary education. Nice!

George starts off by addressing the elephant in the room; why should we all strive to be global citizens? Here are some of his words that get at the answer to this:

“The world is shrinking and we can no longer hide, no longer walk away and no longer pretend that someone else’s actions do not concern us. We must engage and we must try to understand.”

“my point is that very few issues of significance today can be understood within one’s own national context.”

“What elements of the curriculum will encourage a sense of belonging to a human family of inherent dignity?”

The argument that Walker makes is evident in these short sections: that our frequent interactions with people of other nationalities and cultures, both on an individual and political level, would go way better if we try and understand these intercultural differences that are at play. He cites some examples, such as an interaction he had with a doctor working at the Iraqi border, and discusses the importance of attempting a critical examination of oneself within the context of the “human family”. The passage supports self reflection, developing a sense of connection between all humans and empathy.

Do I think that global citizens really exist? Sure, yes. I noticed the difference myself in how I interacted with others after returning from spending three months in Peru, and specifically within the many pockets of Latinos in Houston. And I felt something beyond tolerance, much more similar to appreciation and admiration. I can’t say with certainty that my experience is similar to anyone else’s or how it will influence me long term, but maybe I am a bit more “globalized” now.

Do I think that you can teach youth how to be a global citizen in secondary education? No.  I think you can prepare students to enter the world and begin the journey towards global citizenship, but I don’t think this is something that happens in a classroom. It happens through interacting with others, going outside your comfort zone, and finding, within yourself, an active desire to pursue this idea of global citizenship.  

One aspect of global citizen-ship that Walker didn’t really touch on (in the passage I read, at least) is how this journey to globalize yourself can help you to identify your own culture. At least for myself, putting myself in scenarios where I am different from those around me in religion, nationality, ethnicity or cultural background can help me reflect on and think about who I am as a human and how my background and culture shape my interactions. This has been one of the most beneficial aspects of my self-globalization-journey, since it has made me a more self aware and culturally sensitive human when interacting with people that maybe aren’t even very different from myself in the obvious identifiers (nationality, race, age, etc.).  

Example story time: I learned this first hand while conducting interviews for my senior thesis in a more rural community outside of Houston. I did not expect to encounter a cultural barrier with my interview participants, but found that they thought about many things fundamentally different from me. It was almost as if I was speaking to people who came from a completely different part of the world than me, but they lived less than 20 miles from my own home and looked like me. Food for thought, I suppose, but I think the value of inter-cultural interaction to improve intra-cultural interaction is underrated. Then again, what really is culture?!!?!

Stay tuned for more highly disjointed musings...

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Learning, thinking, preparing...

As a Wagoner Fellow, I am required to complete blog posts very similar to those that you might have read from my Loewenstern year (which you can find below). The first pre-departure blogging assignment is to talk to an Argentine.

 I had coffee with a friend, Agustín, who is Argentine and grew up in Buenos Aires, up through completion of his undergraduate degree. He is currently completing a graduate degree in political science at Rice but goes back to Buenos Aires whenever possible. Agustín has been an enormous help throughout my Wagoner experience so far; he originally helped me to make contacts with organizations in Buenos Aires and gave me a lot of great information about the city and his transition to America.

Agustín gave me a lot of great information about living in Buenos Aires. One thing that stuck with me was that, when discussing the safety of different neighborhoods, he described three different types. He said that some neighborhoods are safe during the day and night, others are safe during the day and not after dark, and others are not safe at all. This information was useful in helping me to think about where I should find housing next semester. I’m not trying to live in a place where I have to be a hermit in order to protect my safety, so it was a good reminder that it’s ok to pay $50 more in rent per month in order to feel safe and secure.

He told me a few smaller things about the city, too. For one, he said that the summers are as hot as Houston, which made me a little bit alarmed and concerned. I have evaded Houston summers for 4 years and now will be forced to experience a similar one... He also made the big claim that the food in Buenos Aires is better than in Houston, which I am skeptical of but excited about. All these little tidbits help me to imagine my life in Buenos Aires and get exciiiteed (as if I need help for that).

When discussing the culture of Argentina, Agustín made a comment about how males in Buenos Aires can be pushier and have a hard time accepting no for an answer, especially compared to in the United States. This is raised a lot of concerns for me but was something that was probably important to hear. I found this a little bit in Peru, also, but never had any serious problems because I was always with a large group of friends.  

Espero que todo vaya bien... Ya veremos.

[saludosamigoss-blog]

New adventures...

Beginning a new chapter of my life as a Wagoner Fellow instead of a Loewenstern Fellow means its time for a new short-blurb about what I’ll be doing abroad for the CCL website. Here it goes:

Kate Thomas (Will Rice ‘17) will research with Fundación Ambiente y Recursos Naturales (FARN) this year in Buenos Aires, Argentina for seven months. Kate will continue a project she began as her sociology honors thesis studying risks from the petrochemical industry in a fence-line community. Her work will consist of statistical analysis of environmental and demographic data, as well as interviews with community stakeholders. 

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What is this blog? Who am I?

Hi all, if you’re running across this for some reason or another. My name is Kate Thomas and, at the time that I am writing this, I am a senior at Rice University studying statistics and sociology and just having returned from spending nine weeks in Peru through the Loewenstern Fellowship. 

A little bit about the organization that I worked with and the work I did: Building Dignity is a NGO south of Lima, in a community called Villa El Salvador, that has tutoring and skill development for local youth. I worked mostly with the Voices of Youth leadership development program, which includes children aged 11-17 and touches on a variety of topics including health, arts and culture, teamwork, diversity, and more. Building Dignity operates mostly on local staff and volunteers with the assistance of sporadic international volunteers, and solicits community input on new programs and organizational directions. The network and family that comes with Building Dignity’s community was truly one of the most meaningful parts of my experience. 

 My research centered around the obstacles preventing local youth from attending university, and employed a mixed methods participatory approach working closely with a group of young adults who had graduated from the program in recent years. The project was engaging and challenged me to implement research methodologies that I have never considered before: focus groups, dynamic exercises and the overall model of community based participatory research.

Beware of what you read below... Many of my blog posts have been written stream of consciousness or an emotional haze.

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Post-Loewenstern Interviews

For my close personal friend interview, I talked to Michael, my boyfriend of five years. I think that this may have been an interesting choice- maybe not the wrong choice, but I certainly think that it influenced the type and quality of answers that I received.  He was definitely willing to give me negative answers and they were easy to hear coming from him, but I think he may have been almost too close to me to answer big picture questions on the last few months. Either that or my questions were just hard to answer. The most interesting thing that I learned from my conversation with Michael was that I became more self aware about my privilege as a result of my Loewenstern. I was surprised when I heard him say that I was overall not that negative about Peru and gave it the benefit of the doubt, because I felt like I was complaining a lot and generally not handling adversity very well. I also thought it was funny that he said I went through a sequence typical of someone who is traveling: beginning with discomfort, disillusionment and difficulties and eventually changing into a sense of wanderlust and excitement around travel.

For my community-member interview, I talked with a friend named Bryan. Not unexpectedly, he was very kind and hesitant to give me negative feedback. He mentioned that I was more respectful than previous international volunteers had been and always expressed curiosity to learn more about his culture and Peru in general. As expected, he said that I improved a lot on my Spanish. I think the main thing I got from this interview was that a little bit of basic respect truly does go a long way in peoples memories. 

For my faculty member interview, I talked with my thesis advisor and professor Jim Elliott. We haven’t talked much about my experience this summer and so I think he felt a little bit underprepared to answer these questions. Nonetheless, he said that I seem more directed in my career after having been to Peru this summer. He said that I could improve how I talk with others about my experience, because I seem very unsure still and like I haven’t gotten the chance to reflect completely on my months in Peru. 

These interviews were nice, but I don’t really think begin to capture the extent to which I have been influenced by my work in Peru. The problem is that I’m not sure I’ve begun to understand the extent or the specific ways, so I have had a hard time communicating them effectively to those people around me. I think I will need to think about this and continue discussing it with those close to me for a while before I’m able to talk eloquently and confidently about my personal changes throughout the experience. I hope this transition happens before my interviews for jobs and fellowships, because that would be pretty inconvenient if I still hadn’t come up with a good answer to the question “So how was Peru?” by that point.

In general, these interviews were a nice affirmation for the character traits that I thought I already had, as oppose to an opportunity to learn more about the facets of myself that are hidden to my consciousness. Bryan’s comments reminded me that the small things I do are remembered and appreciated by those that I interact with, and encouraged me to keep on doing those. I think it would be more beneficial for me to do another round of interviews after I have had more time to process and interact with close friends and family, and then repeat that one. 

One of the biggest changes that I observed about myself was that I gained perspective about my values. Being in close proximity to Peruvians who are my age and have been raised in a completely different context helped me to realize some of the aspects of my upbringing and culture that have shaped who I am. I realized that I am relatively independent, and act within a typical mindset of an individualistic American, as oppose to thinking about myself as a unit with my priority. With that said, I realized in the same conversation that I do really value having a strong community around me and working to improve it. I’m still trying to work out the details of this and figure out exactly how these two parts of my identity work in conjunction with each other.

Another thing that I realized is that, before I went to Peru, I had kind of an invincibility complex. My mom has always told me that but I had never exactly understood how this affected my actions and my perspective on life until I went to Peru. I went into the summer not really expecting that I would face too many challenges, or that I would experience culture shock, or that I would feel very weak. But I did to all of those, and more beyond what I could have even imagined. In a way, this strengthened me by making me recognize my limitations and weaknesses, but I can’t help by feeling a little bit weaker now that this invincibility complex has been burst. I am appreciative for knowing this, though, especially at a time when I’m making huge life decisions soon and can benefit from understanding how I will react to different environments. 

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Kate attempts introspection

Prompt in a gist: Look back at your previous blog posts from the summer and spring semester and identify themes, gaps, trends, patterns, etc... 

I feel like I write this at the start of every blog post, but again I find myself thinking and saying “this prompt was hard for me”. This time it has to do with the fact that I’m being asked to reflect back on a time in my life that I’m not sure I’ve even come close to processing or being able to understand fully. And even though I have blog posts and near-daily journal posts to help me with this task, it’s hard for me to look back on with new perspective because it still feels so recent. Despite this, I came up with a few conclusions after looking back on a handful of blog posts, my personal journal from the summer and my memories.

First, and most clearly to me, I was able to piece together a larger narrative about how my career interests have been shaped by the places I’ve lived. I thought a lot about the similarities and differences between my hometown in California, Houston and Lima and how each of these have influenced my intellectual development. This thinking came hand in hand with a lot of curiosity around topics that I’m interested in, but wasn’t directly researching this summer, such as general urbanism, water management, environmental sustainability and municipal governance. I explored these through informal conversations with peers, personal observations and my own reading (I was reading a book at the time called the Big Thirst about water management practices globally that was really intriguing to me). This was kind of interesting to me to watch in writing how I went to a country to do work in education, but my learning and curiosity led me to explore so many more topics than just that.

Another trend that I saw was that a lot of my frustration stemmed from having lots of work to do, and wanting to get it done, but not being able to. At times, I was stressed about how I would complete my research project or other work commitments, but wasn’t able to spend as much time on it as I would have liked at work. Realistically, I was only able to work probably a total of eight hours per week on my research project, with the rest of the time spent helping other volunteers, working with the children, out and about running errands or door knocking, or frankly just sitting around because I didn’t have any computer to work on. This frustration built up mostly from the challenging environment at work, given two functioning computers for six volunteers, but also from not having my own personal laptop that I could work on at home or bring to CEDED with me. When I had to give up my laptop to the iStore, I essentially lost the ability to work on personal projects, plan my August travels, or even surf the internet with ease. This is an interesting light to see myself in, as it is so opposite from the school year where I am essentially unlimited in my working time, resources or schedule and never suffer from the problem of wanting to do work but not being able to. It’s interesting and helpful to know that this is something that gives me anxiety.

But I think another reason that I found such a hard time integrating my blog posts into larger themes and patterns was that I am an extremely detail oriented person, and I write and think accordingly. My blog posts and personal journals, and even my memories, focus on details that seem almost minute in importance: seeing a Texas license plate on a wall, why lots of people wore shirts with marijuana leaves on them, the smell of my slippers, the process of construction in Villa El Salvador, the phenomenon of running to wait in line for the bus, having to pay for Machu Picchu tickets at the bank instead of online, and loads of specific interactions that, without larger context or emotion attached, seem kind of unimportant. Reading back on these reminds me that this is the way I think, and helps explain why I have been having trouble seeing larger themes and personal changes from my time in Peru.  

[saludosamigoss-blog]

A synthesis of my summer research!!

Written for the Omprakash blog but I’ll feel more accomplished if I post it here also!!!

- - - - - - - - - 

In Peru, nearly 50% of students from public schools who take the university entrance exam fail, and preparation classes can be expensive and time consuming (Karim, 2011). Partly due to inadequate secondary education and lack of resources to prepare, many youth from low income families will never attend university. In fact, only about 20% of the students attending universities come from low income families, despite a nationwide poverty rate of 75% (Castro et al, 2011; Building Dignity, 2014).

The statistics reveal a little about how important this issue is, but I think this is one issue that is particularly hard to address for the extranjeros of Building Dignity (international volunteers and staff. When I first started digging into this issue, I was stunned at how different the overall system of higher education is in Peru from that of the United States or Europe. I was surprised to hear that the public universities are the most competitive and prestigious, and also are completely free, which is practically the opposite as in the United States. I was also shocked to learn about the smaller details, such as hearing my friends tell me stories of having to provide blood samples and extensive medical information in order to enroll in a university.

To me, this is part of the reason that it is so important for staff and volunteers to constantly be researching and seeking to better understand the climate, process and challenges along the path to higher education in Peru. If it is challenging for non-Peruvians to understand the system, it is almost impossible to effectively implement organizational programs or policy to help the Building Dignity community without a baseline understanding. As one step in this long and important journey, I tackled the research question: what are the obstacles to higher education for students in the neighborhoods of La Encantada and Oasis, and what can Building Dignity do to help this process?

To answer this question, I worked on a mixed-methods community-based participatory research project over my nine weeks at Building Dignity this summer. This meant interviews, focus groups, a survey, dynamic exercises with local volunteers and co-researchers, and many other informal conversations and visits that helped me to learn as much as I could about the Peruvian higher education system.

In a nutshell, three main themes emerged in the dialogue around higher education. First, the students I spoke with repeatedly spoke of a lack of information around the university application process, universities themselves, career paths and scholarship opportunities. Students seemed uncertain about how to learn more about local universities, and didn’t know about many possible scholarship opportunities. Many students expressed stress about choosing a career, as this must be done before the university application process starts. Information was most commonly spread by word of mouth, which led to students choosing a university or career mainly because a friend or family member had chosen it.

Second, the process of applying to a university seems to be complicated, tedious and time consuming. I heard stories of students spending entire days at the doctor to complete the required health check or repeatedly going to the wrong banks to find documents. These stories echoed common complaints about the immense amount of paperwork required to attend university: medical documents, property titles, bank records, tax forms, and many more documents that most teenagers have never seen before. When applying to public school, prospective students are required to complete this paperwork within a very short, designated window or else risk losing their spot. Public or private, students reported spending days on nothing except attempting to compile the documents necessary to enroll in university. Although this system is efficient at gathering comprehensive student information, it can alienate prospective students and restrict access to higher education. I came away with the impression that this process is daunting, discouraging and can even deter students from pursuing enrollment at all.

Perhaps most importantly, I came to believe that one of the key problems facing the local youth was not with regard to university admission, but to public schools specifically. Students told me repeatedly about feeling underprepared for the challenging entrance exams, and feeling like they did not have satisfactory knowledge from primary and secondary school to succeed. If VES students want to have a chance at passing the notoriously difficult entrance exams to Peru’s top public schools, they take over a year to study and complete test prep courses (known as academia), which are expensive and take time that they could otherwise spend earning money or working towards an alternative degree at an instituto (which is similar to American community colleges). Students face substantial barriers to admission to public universities, which they would benefit most from, as they are both free of cost and highly regarded. This perspective guided some of my research, as I worked with local ambassadors to brainstorm how Building Dignity can make this process easier for students.

Although these patterns are certainly symptomatic of larger systematic issues, there are meaningful ways that Building Dignity can help students set and reach high goals for university. One of the projects that I worked on was to create a “Center for University Preparation”, or a physical location within the community center that would hold resources for students applying to university. The bookshelf offers test prep books, written information from current university students and lists of scholarships, but also symbolizes and communicates Building Dignity’s commitment to helping students reach postsecondary goals. Other ideas that emerged from brainstorming sessions with the ambassadors were creating online resources, helping students organize part time job opportunities, organizing a test prep course and training a Building Dignity staff to help with the paperwork and overall admissions process.

Throughout my nine weeks in Peru and after, I have been constantly surprised by the generosity and genuine interest of the Building Dignity ambassadors. Despite working or taking a full class load, volunteering and maintaining duties to family and friends, this group of young men and women set aside time to help me understand their experience with the postsecondary education system and how to improve Building Dignity’s role in this process. My project would not be a fraction of what it became without their support and leadership. Despite this all, the ideas from my summer’s work only scratch the surface of a rich and nuanced subject topic that demands the attention of future Building Dignity volunteers and staff.  

[saludosamigoss-blog]

~~ Experiential Learning ~~

Q: How would you define this style of learning, what are the benefits to this pedagogy, what philosophy of learning have you established based on your experience?

I almost wish this question had been posed to me before I left for Peru, because I spent a bit of my time this summer grappling with understanding the style of learning I was experiencing and reconciling it with the classroom style learning I am so used to. Let me explain some background.

While in Peru, I lived with five other international volunteers that all lived and worked in Villa El Salvador. Twice a week, students studying abroad in Lima would take the train into VES to work with the children. Over the course of my time in Peru, I got to know one of these volunteers... who I will call Arman.

It was clear that Arman was on a program that was very different from the one that I was on. He had been there since February, was much better at Spanish, and sat in a classroom with other American students for a few hours a day learning about Peruvian culture and history. He was noticeably much more cautious around VES, and often warned us about things like not taking our phones out (we didn’t even have our phones with us), not talking in English on the bus and not letting anyone know that we were from the United States. 

At times, I was envious of him. I was having a hard time understanding different parts of Peruvian culture and history that I was experiencing, and would have liked to have a designated hour each day that I could sit in a room and discuss those. When the Peruvian presidential elections were happening, he was obviously far more knowledgeable about it than any of us and consequently became very impassioned. 

Other times, I was bothered and angry at his condescension in telling us how to behave in the very community we lived in. He assumed the worst: that someone would rob him if they knew he was from the United States, that residents would erupt in violence spontaneously and thus that he was constantly a to-be victim. Like many other Peruvians, he had been warned that VES was unsafe and to not trust anyone there.  

It became clear that he was experiencing VES mainly by letting the words of his professors dictate his experience and perspective. I imagine them in a classroom in fancy-pants Miraflores, at the best private university in Peru, discussing widespread poverty and social issues. Choosing a NGO to work with to experience these. Being warned about what it would be like. And entering clouded with assumptions 

And I wonder how much of his other experiences in Peru were like that too. The class would travel together to different cities to experience Afro-Peruvian culture, the town in the South with many Spanish remnants, and more across Peru. And I imagine them preparing with days of culture, history, facts, information, warnings, and then entering like a knight in full armor except that armor is really just baggage. 

I don’t mean that preparing and learning about a place before you travel there or while you are there is bad, by any means. But I do think that there is something to be said for going to a place and wrapping yourself in your experiences with the places, the people, the sights, the smells, the pace, and the feelings it invokes in you. 

And the exact same can be said for social issues. There is learning about issues in urban education by sitting in a classroom and reading academic articles about discrimination, poverty, school funding, understaffed facilities.... And there is working in those schools, with those children, feeling all those problems as your own frustrations. One thing to be said about neglected public services in low income neighborhoods, another to talk to residents about their frustrations with the piling up trash and roads that need paving as you walk through their neighborhood. 

And it can be challenging, because it’s harder to put the pieces together yourself. Like piecing together a puzzle without knowing exactly what the final picture should be. But infinitely more gratifying through the journey. 

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Pick 3 to 4 examples that represent ethical photography to put on your blog. What do these pictures represent? Why are they examples of ethical photography?

Hmmmmmmm. A difficult prompt for me because I haven't taken many photos within my host community, mostly due to the fact that I make myself even more subject to crime or mugging than I normally am (as a gringita) when I pull out my iPhone to take a photo. Generally not very accepted in this very un-touristy area. But here goes:

Photo 1 is silly but makes me happy. My friendship with Bryan has been one of the best parts of my time in Peru. From the first week I arrived, Bryan was such a friendly face to me. We regularly hung out on Friday and Saturday nights at the house or at nearby discotecas with friends, and some of my favorite memories are eating delicious Chifa (Chinese food, with a Peruvian spin) with him one Saturday for lunch or hanging out on the roof, looking at the lights of Villa El Salvador late at night. He is a talented leader, musician and teacher and is fearlessly honest about his mistakes and his experiences. With any question about Peru, CEDED, the Spanish language or Villa El Salvador, Bryan had answers for me. My friendship with Bryan helped to boost my confidence in my Spanish and showed me that I am capable of relationships outside of my normal language and culture. I consider this an example of ethical photography because my friendship with Bryan was like any other friendship of mine... Which means we took silly selfies. We were constantly joking around and having a great time, and I think this picture begins to communicate that. It sometimes saddens me to think about how quickly and frequently international volunteers come in and out of his life, but this picture and others like it will remain to remind us both of our friendship.

Photo 2 is a photo I took while at the apartment of a woman who I met through a coworker. As you might be able to tell through this photo, the apartment was flawless. Where did she even find that matching mirror and table? Or the little bonsai? Do you think anyone ever sits in that chair? Would I even be allowed?!?!? Even though she lived in a small apartment with a dog, there wasn't even so much as a dog hair to be found on the carpet or a chair. An entire guest room was full of antiques, including typewriters. She had a walk in closet, a doorman, an underground parking garage, an awesome view off the balcony, and a prime location within walking distance of the ocean and the heart of Miraflores. This was incredible luxury by Western standards.

Spoiler alert: As much as I might like to pretend, I didn't come to Peru and live like the residents of VES do. I regularly went into Lima on the weekends and stayed in apartments like this, took hot showers and walks through private parks, had meals worth s/30 (over 5 times what you might pay in VES), and didn't worry too much about the cost. I took taxis when I felt like it, bought what I wanted at the market and am now sitting on a third floor balcony drinking a French Press coffee and looking at a view of the mountains, while a table of foreigners next to me drinks mysterious foamy green juice from a decanter. I definitely have tried to save money while in Peru, but it's clear that the value of a sol is different for me than for my friends from VES. I have felt a little bit guilty or disingenuous about this at certain points, pretending to live in VES but running back to luxury on weekends. It's not like my neighbors and friends in VES can just choose to take a vacation from poverty.

But, regardless, this photo tells a story about a part of Peruvian society that I have experienced during my time here, and that surely exists. As an American and with dollars in my bank account, I have connections and resources to do things that the local residents do not. And as part of that, I was able to experience the upper echelon of Peruvian society. Which is incredibly upper echelon. As disingenuous as I feel taking vacations from poverty, I would feel even more disingenuous if I only shared photos of Peruvian poverty. It is surely not all like that.

And for my last ethical photo, I take an easy example. From a tour I did last week of a coffee plantation in the Peruvian rainforest. Of a woman roasting some coffee beans. This is one of the only pictures I have of Peruvian people... Because I generally feel kind of weird taking pictures of people, as I do landscapes, as if they're part of the scenery I have come here to ogle and not real people.

Why do I consider this one ethical? I guess just because I was on an official tour and they told me to take photos.

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Reflections from the Mountains

Whose responsibility is it to alleviate the conditions caused by the social issue you are addressing? What can they do about it? Hmmm... I may seize this prompt to dive further into something I have been thinking about with regard to inequalities in the Lima area. The social issue I am addressing with my work this summer is education, but the inequalities between Miraflores and Villa El Salvador don't stop there. Every weekend, I take the bus one hour into Lima to walk among perfectly manicured green medians, tucked away shops selling all-natural fruit popsicles, velvet crop tops and chia seeds, and of course an abundance of other white folk walking around. But the presence of Villa El Salvador- filled with trash and the worst looking dogs I have ever seen- nags at the back of my mind. Only 11.8 miles away... ! Something unique about the Lima area that has always kind of confused and interested me is that, in the very basic definition of the word, Lima is not really one city because every neighborhood is a separate municipality, called "distritos" here. Villa El Salvador is equally part of Lima as Miraflores, which are both governed separately with their own alcaldes and municipal governments. I have so many questions about this. My original intent with this blog post was to research this topic and find some answers to my questions... But I haven't been able to find much online. I'll keep searching, but for now all you get are my reflections on this. For those of you that have seen my verbal Venn diagram of Lima-Houston-San Francisco Bay Area, this factors in nicely. Houston takes one approach by governing one ginormous metropolitan area with a single municipal government. San Francisco and Lima handle this differently, by breaking up their giant metropolitan areas into little municipalities. But it seems to me like this could inadvertently foster inequalities between these districts. Palo Alto and Miraflores both have the tax revenue of the elite. Richmond and Villa El Salvador both have the tax revenue of, well, not much. And then you get areas where acai bowls and sandwiches cost $13 within 30 miles of crime-ridden, trash-overflowing areas. Not necessarily saying that the Bay Area or Lima should be governed by one municipality... But what about some sort of regional attempt to mitigate these inequalities? (Note: Houston doesn't do much better, what with the TIRZ zones and other tools in place to prevent equal redistribution of tax funds, but it could work well in theory...) A friend once told me that, although they are all separate municipalities, the provincial government actually does distribute money to some extent. If this is true, I am kind of flabbergasted and have so many questions on how they choose to allocate it. How can Villa El Salvador residents be living along trash, while the slogan of Miraflores is literally "The Clean City"? I understand that Miraflores is a huge tourist and business money-maker for Lima, whereas no one would go to VES unless they had to, but the discrepancy in funding for basic public services (such as trash collection) is astounding. How would the regional government distribute funds if there was a natural disaster, such as an earthquake? How does the VES bus run so much less often than the rest?? And I realize that education, which I've focused on during my time here, is not even a local issue. Education is something that is terrible across all of Peru, and which residents of Villa El Salvador might even have much better than children in more rural parts of Peru. But the education in VES is really not great. The embajadores (ambassadors, which are graduates of Building Dignity's programs) have told me that their high school education isn't good enough for them to get into the public universities (which are the best universities in Peru, and also free). If they want to pass the entrance exams, they have to do 1-2 years more of private tutoring and do nothing besides study for the exam. It's likely that Peru has the same problem as the US: that the best teachers don't want to teach in the worst areas. It's also exacerbated by the fact that many parents here haven't finished high school themselves, might not be literate, and certainly have a hard time helping their child on homework or understanding the value of learning algebra. One mother I spoke to told me that she doesn't send her son to school when it rains, even drizzles... Which is about every other day here. How can you assign blame anywhere when education is such a complicated issue that is influenced by just about every member of society? NGOs like Building Dignity can definitely help make a difference in the education of a few children, but I'm skeptical of how much of a sustainable and long-term fix this really is. Peru will still have a shortage of qualified teachers, a culture of copying whenever possible and some of the worst universities in Latin America. Where do you even start with something as complicated as this? Anyways... At this point, I'm eating ceviche and drinking beer at 10,100 feet, in a very beautiful and proud mountain town called Huaraz. Writing this on my phone because the computer repair shop told me they needed another 15 days. Wondering how Huaraz is able to be so awesome, but also just appreciating it all. My experience in Peru would not feel as nearly as full as it has if I hadn't spent some time in both Miraflores, Villa El Salvador and towns like Huaraz. Next to my table, a family sits down to eat with a few cardboard boxes the size of shoe boxes next to them. They are stacked on top of each other and have small holes poked in the side. Only a second ago did I see little noses poking out and realize that these boxes have Guinea pigs in them (Cuy, en español) that are probably on their way to be slaughtered and fried, then served whole. Huaraz is one of the towns in la Sierra that specializes in Cuy. Yum... And a Happy Peruvian Independence Day to all! Boo colonialism! <3 KT

[saludosamigoss-blog]

The 10 worst parts of my day: A kind of sad blog post

After you've had a particularly emotional day related to service... What prompted such a strong emotional reaction? Will this change the nature of your relationship with a specific individual, the community or your host agency and if so, how? 1. The lunch I was served of a huge, steaming plate of white rice, boiled potato and animal skin. Complete with hair, purple veins, everything. Thankfully the stray dog lingering by my ankles was a lot more appreciative of it than I was. 2. The endless loop that groups of people can get trapped in where, instead of making meaningful contributions to conversation, people just share tangentially related anecdotes over and over until it's time to do something else. 3. The coworkers who never seem too busy, but suddenly have a ton to do when you ask them to help you with something. 4. The especially pungent poop smell in the office. 5. The man that fails to confirm the location of your event that's supposed to be happening in two weeks. Even though he told you last time to come back on Tuesday. And even though you need to start knocking on doors tomorrow to pass out invitations. 6. The smell of your slippers that have rotted because the bathroom floor floods every day, thanks to not having a shower curtain. And then the murky flood waters seep in through the cracks of your $3.50 slippers... 7. The slight greasiness in your hair that reminds you that you haven't showered in almost 3 days and that you must step into the cold, dirty torture chamber soon. 8. The salad you eat of raw onions and tomato that makes you miss beautiful spring lettuce. 9. The feeling of anxiety and fear that are brought up when you think about how much you have to get done in the next three weeks... Kind of similar to the one that Rice students get in early November and April. A community-wide event, two interviews, a focus group, a survey, an analysis of some other survey data, regressions on a randomized control trial, and now your friend's sister wants to recruit your help on a last-minute surprise birthday party. 10. The shameful feeling that comes alongside being an impatient, snappy person to your very kind friends who feed you cheese and let you borrow their laptops. In all seriousness, I didn't even have the worst day ever. I ate a really great apple, made a lot of progress on my research, and enjoyed the blanket of fog and mist hanging above the city. But I did feel myself being consumed in frustration and impatience. It's not even that things are moving slowly, or poorly... It's more just that sometimes, being out of your comfort zone can take an extra toll when all you really want is comfort. Prescription: More meditation, a walk around the block in future times of stress, and maybe another cookie or two. I have a feeling that will help me be less in my head and more grounded in observing and experiencing the world moving around me...

[saludosamigoss-blog]

A Fallen Friend

How has your experience thus far met or not met your expectations? What, if anything, do you intend to change about your personal interactions or work for the remainder of your time?

This is an interesting question for me, because one of the things that I have realized lately is that I really didn't have many expectations before I left, for better or for worse. I think that I genuinely just didn't think that much about what my day-to-day life would be like. this has helped me a little bit to develop appropriate routines and life a little bit more spontaneous of a life than I normally do, but seems a little weird that I didn't think about it more. The one thing I am so glad that I thought about was purchasing this 46 oz Nalgene... Easily one of my new favorite possessions. How did I ever stay hydraged before, having to fill up a bottle so frequently? (Note: Michael reminded me that I actually wrote a blog post earlier on my expectations. Oops, I should review that).

One thing that I did expect, though, was to have constant access to a computer. Per my typical, constantly-going self, I had planned to work on a variety of personal and academic projects regularly (Learn STATA! Work on senoir thesis!) However, as of last week, I no longer have my computer. That's right, folks: my beloved Macbook is now in the possession of one of Lima's "iStore"s, because it gave me the dreaded file folder with question mark symbol while rying to turn it on. And, since there are only Apple Authorized Retailers here in Peru (no Apple Stores in South America, except in Brazil!), it'll take them way longer than normal to fix it. Estimates that they'll be done on July 22, just one day before I'm scheduled to take off for 3.5 weeks of travel and won't need my computer. As your typical laptop-obsessed university student, this is a little bit of a crisis. How do I watch Netflix? How will I post this blog post, which I am currently writing physically in my journal? How can I do research on my late-July travels? What will I do in my free time?? I have been trying not to panic, but this will definitely be a huge challenge for me.

I have been trying to think about my laptop-less situation as though it completes my transition to camping. We have no way to close ourselves off from the elements while inside, no potable water, no hot showers, no way to escape the film of sand and dirt covering everyhting. And now, one more thing to add to "The List of Similarities Between My Life in Villa El Salvador and Camping": they both offer me a reprieve from constantly being plugged in. I love and find enjoyment in all these things while camping, and am trying to think about my life in VES in the same light. It will be interesting experiencing the next month and a half without a computer constantly glued to my back, as I sometimes feel it is in student alter-ego. Thankfully I have good friends to talk to, books to read, writing and blog posts to be done, and generally don't think I'll find myself too inconvenienced. Day 6 going strong! (Note: I actually still have very plentiful access to computers as I use one a few hours a day at work, am surrounding by internet cafes and have kind friends who lend theirs to me. Just being dramatic.)

One thing that I have been a little disappointed by is the relatively limited exposure to Spanish that I get on a daily basis, due to the fact that I'm living and working with other English speakers. I have realized that I will have to make a concerted effort to improve my Spanish as much as I would like to while I am here. A few ways I have started doing this is by interacting with the local volunteers as much as possible, hanging out with them a couple times every week, and arranging a language exchange with a friend who is trying to learn English. I think I will still leave relatively unsatisifed with my level of Spanish, and I'll still have a long ways to go, but I think that's ok.

Even though I can't exactly say that my expectations have been met so far, due to generally limited expectations, I can definitely say that I have beome satisfied with my work and personal life at this point in my fellowship. My memories of my first few weeks here are mostly littered with confusion and sadness: feeling purposeless at the office before I really begun my project; the few moments of near-hypothermia after stepping out of the shower; confusion on where to find products that I was so used to buying at any supermarket in the states. At some point, though, the dominance of those feelings was gradually replaced by memories of comfort, happiness, appreciation. Looking back on my last week or two, I see myself around the table with friends after work on Friday evening chatting over fried rice and beer; sitting in the back row of the combi on my way home from work, appreciating how public transit comes equipped with disco lighting and music here; or finally knowing what all the different pastries are at the panadería across the street when I go to buy breakfast. Although, sorry friends, I probably won't stop sending you snapchats about how cold I am after I get out of the shower.

I'm starting to feel a little bit sad that I'm already halfway through my time here, although I know the month of July will be jam-packed in the best way possible. We started a book club among the international volunteers and are reading Open Veins of Latin America, of which I have only read 30 pages and am already in love. My research project is ramping up, and I'm both excited and a little bit scared for how much I will have to get done in my next three weeks in the office. All the local and international volunteers are off to Cajamarca tomorrow, a small Peruvian town about 15 hours north of Peru, and I am so looking forward to the schedule and experiencing some good ol' mountain air. I’ll be leading a workshop around higher education in Peru, including some brainstorming and innovative-thinkin’ on what stops Peruvians from going to college and what our community center can do to help children in the community. 

If anything, the death of my comptuer may have been a little bit of a blessing. It's easy to weasel away my free few hours a day after work or on weekends on my computer, either working on something "productive" or just relaxing. I am sure that this change will allow me the opportunity to engage with both the people around me and my neighborhood, community, and this country far more than I would have by sitting upstairs and floating through the world of the Internet. All well over here, folks!

[saludosamigoss-blog]

Click on photos to see captions!

[saludosamigoss-blog]

A Verbal Venn Diagram

Thinking lately about all kinds of similarities between Lima and the Bay Area, with Houston being the odd one out. Both Lima and the Bay Area sit right along the Pacific Ocean. But they are both located in really dry areas, meaning that both places have issues with water scarcity. They are also both massive metropolitan conglomerations, made up of a ton of smaller, independent municipalities...   

Although I see a lot of similarities between CA and Lima’s water availability, I’m not sure that Lima has noticed it has a water issue yet. It’s common to see large trucks with water tanks and a man standing on the back with a hose, giving a median with only a few trees or grass a TON of water. I think the dogs like it more than the trees. Maybe water is less of a crucial issue when your residents don’t expect clean drinking water to come from the tap.

And then you have Houston, where people have died each year I have lived there due to heavy rainfall and flooding, and where the City chooses to eat up all new development around it and now manages an area the size of the state of Massachusetts. Hmmmm. 

What a strange combination of places to have lived in!