Bus 86.

On our last day in Buenos Aires, Eric and I said goodbye with a bus ride to the airport. There are many ways to get there, the bus being the longest route - which, strangely enough, was exactly what we were looking for. We wanted a long road, twisting and turning through the city, allowing us to properly say goodbye.

We wound through the city streets of Buenos Aires and watched the neighborhoods change. From the grand city center with business bustling to city neighborhoods of apartment patios overlooking busy streets. To the high-rise buildings, hundreds of people piled into small spaces – each family on top of the next. To small single-family homes, brick and connected. To large houses with fences and yards. And then, in an instant, to the countryside – with horses and cows and fields and water.

The city structure is so familiar, with its pattern reflected in cities all around the world. We have learned to organize, to classify ourselves – to understand ourselves (and the people around us) – according to where we live. With invisible walls between the concentric circles that clearly divide, clearly define the people of a city from one another.

But, invisible or not, the walls are not necessary.
We do not need the division.
Because wherever we are, if we are willing to defy the circles – to cross the street – we will discover other people, just like us. People trying to live their lives, the best way they know how. People who love their families, work to provide for them, desire joy in their lives. People who call the same city home.

Thank you, Buenos Aires, for welcoming us as visitors in your city. We have been honored to live and work and walk among you. And thank you, Bus 86, for the beautiful goodbye ride. I will remember the circles – and from now on, no matter where I am, I will cross the street.

Idealist.org (Reprise).

The definite highlight of these months in Buenos Aires has been the opportunity I’ve had to volunteer at Idealist.org. There are so many things that I’ve loved about the experience – the people that I’ve worked with, the projects I’ve worked on, the many things that I’ve learned. But, perhaps the thing that has made the greatest impression on me during my time as an Idealist.org volunteer has been the goodness that I witnessed in countless people that I’ve never met.

Idealist.org – and its counterparts Idealistas.org and Idealiste.org – connect hundreds of thousands of individuals that truly want to do something good in the world with organizations that need their help. It’s an idea that truly works ... and it’s amazing. I found great inspiration and hope in the opportunity to witness these connections, and I believe in the good that is becoming in our world as a result.

Towards the end of my volunteer experience at Idealist.org, they started a blog for their volunteers. If you’d like to learn a bit more about my Idealist.org experience, I’d invite you to visit http://ivolunteeredatidealist.blogspot.com. Scroll down, you’ll find me there!

Children of Fear.

I’ve always found it fascinating to meet people my age from different places in our world. There is something special about knowing that we’ve been living parallel lives of sorts, just in different places. A few years back, while working at Open Arms, I made a friend from South Africa who was a part of the ‘healing of memories’, a project striving to find true reconciliation for the pain of apartheid in South Africa. He was exactly my age, and had grown up outside of Durban, South Africa. While I was enjoying elementary school, piano lessons and Odessy of the Mind, my friend was experiencing the battle against apartheid - by the age of 10, he had endured things so horrific they are difficult to even imagine.

In Buenos Aires, I discovered more “parallel” lives – my Spanish teachers, Martin and Pedro, are both close to my age. In an Argentine History Charla (lecture), they described our generation in Argentina as the children of the disappeared ... the children of fear. In the mid-seventies, as they (and I) were being born, their parents were witness to one of the darkest times in Argentine History. Their earliest years were surrounded by Argentina’s silent fear. In 1976, a military junta overthrew Argentina’s president. In an effort to gain complete control, they began a secret movement to capture, detain, and often kill anyone they suspected of government resistance. As part of their torture tactics, they often demanded that prisoners give them another name of someone involved in “leftist resistance”. When they received a new name, they would kidnap the person – often from the safety of their own home. One by one, people silently disappeared from Argentine neighborhoods – with fear of repercussions keeping most witnesses silent. Despite years of inquiries and protests from the families (especially the mothers) of the disappeared, the government continually denied their involvement until they were final overthrown in 1983. By that time, more than 30,000 Argentines are estimated to have disappeared.

Just last year, the government built a memorial to honor these Argentines – people kidnapped, brutally tortured and killed by their own government. The wall is a work in progress, as they are still, today, learning about this awful time in their own history. As new people’s names are confirmed, they are added to the wall.

As a visitor in Argentina, my understanding of the era of ‘the disappeared’ is very limited. I have hesitated to even write about it, knowing that my knowledge is lacking – and that an overview of the history doesn’t do it justice. But, after visiting the memorial, I knew that these are the kinds of things in our world’s history that we must write about, talk about, build memorials for, learn from – these are the things in our world’s history that we must remember.

Bouncing Off Marbled Walls.

As I walk, I can feel the city under and around me. As its buses roar and horns honk and people chatter and grandeur towers and bells ring and fountains burst and dancers tango and flowers sell and sun-streams peek and protesters march and news waits and cafe con leches steam and medialunas rise and park benches fill and couples kiss and cigarettes light and mates sip and pigeons flock and homeless sleep and gardens bloom and boats port and statues keep watch over it all.

I can feel this lovely city under and around me,
as its complex history bounces of its marbled walls.
and its people stand on concrete corners learning again and again who it is that they are.

Guaraní

Every month, LIFE Argentina (the organization Eric and “moonlight volunteer” with every now and then) takes a volunteer trip up to Northern Argentina. For the past five years, they’ve been working with a small community of Indigenous people in the province of Misiones. The community there is a contemporary Guarani village – a group of Indigenous people that lived throughout much of South America at one time. Their history is tragic, and their current existence seems to often be a struggle.

The village that we visited was small – about 80 families. They have access to electricity, but their water is all gathered from a spring on the edge of the village. A teacher comes from outside the community to staff the school during the week. The main language of the community continues to be Guarani, with some of the community members also speaking Spanish.

It was an honor to be their visitor. But, apart from that, both Eric and I struggled with our time there. We found ourselves feeling uncomfortable with the model of development used by the NGO we were representing – and the attitude with which they worked. It was difficult to participate in an effort that didn’t seem to respect or empower the very people it was there to serve. The services themselves (distribution of clothes, food, household supplies) were well intentioned, but seemed to be executed without the participation (buy-in, guidance) of the Guaraní community leadership. Certainly, our view as short-term volunteers is limited, and there may be many more factors at play than we were able to see in one weekend. But, I left with the following gems of learning in my hands:

1. The attitude or spirit with which we do development work matters. Maybe its even broader than that – the spirit with which we work matters. This intangible element to our efforts, whatever they may be, often has positive and/or negative tangible results.

2. The Guaraní people themselves are beautiful - and we very kind to us as guests in their community.

3. Its actually pretty fun to peel hundreds (maybe thousands?!) of hard boiled eggs – especially when you have good company. It was a pleasure to work together with the other international volunteers on our trip.

4. Mutual respect and community participation are critical for relationship-building and long term, sustainable development success. Without buy-in, input or guidance from community members, development efforts (no matter how well-intentioned) can easily become disconnected and ineffective.

5. We need to listen more. What do the people we are serving want? How can we best support them in their efforts? How can we work together in a way that truly moves all of us forward ... together?

[Sidenote: “Guaraní” ring a bell? A part of their tragic history was re-enacted in mid-80s movie “The Mission”. If you have the chance to watch it, be sure to also check out the special feature about making the film. Both Eric and I found it fascinating. Also important to note: the waterfall in the movie is actually way more impressive than it appears. Hard to believe, I know. But, it was absolutely amazing.]

A Protest Parade.

Last week, I was sitting at my desk when I heard what I quickly assumed to be a parade outside. I looked out my sixth floor window to see if I could tell where the singing and whistles and drums were coming from. From two different sides of a park, protest groups were marching towards my building with banners and voices raised. After recovering from my "where's the parade?" embarrassment, I settled in to watch.

The protest parade stopped at the building next to mine. For the next two hours, they pounded and sang and chanted in unison. They waved flags and banners. They posted hundreds of flyers. They spoke. They cheered. And they sang some more.

At the beginning of August, 23 people were detained and arrested for protesting a raise in their rent. The group I watched from my office window was gathered next door to bravely protest the arrest of these other protesters.

Gatherings like this one seem to be common in Buenos Aires. Almost every week, I stumble across a group standing together, feet to the pavement, voices raised together. The groups are large and small, old and young - assembled in front of government offices, travel agencies, banks, hospitals, and schools.

Just today, I passed a group - fifty or so elderly men with one big banner - assembling in a park. I wonder where they were headed and what they were going to say.




















In Minnesota this past month, hundreds of protesters were arrested at the Republican National Convention. Many more were detained, sprayed with tear gas, photographed, searched, injured. Despite the conditions, thousands of people continued to gather, march and raise their voices together.




















While I was in Haiti last spring, there were food riots in Port au Prince. Countless Haitians pounded the streets, raising their voices together about the cost of food - telling their government, their media, their world that they were hungry. At least four Haitians died during these demonstrations.




















My statement here is not about the sides of these issues. At least not this time.
My statement is more of an observation:
Despite past experience and better-judgement and odds, people bravely stand together in streets all over the world to share their stories, to demand change, to cast light on injustice, to ask for a life with dignity - and to ask people with power to listen, to care.

I am not saying that protesters, just by being protesters, are right.
I am saying that if people are brave enough to stand up and march and sing in the streets, that someone should listen, that we should listen.

I am saying that we should do all we can to ensure that it is safe to stand peacefully with our neighbors and speak our truths.

And I am saying that I hope I will have the bravery to stand, put my feet to the pavement and lift my voice whenever I find myself face to face with injustice.

Serious *Besos* Business

I know I've already mentioned besos ("kisses"), but they are worth a second nod. Besos are, by far, my favorite Argentine custom that I've been introduced to as of yet. Every Argentine greeting and goodbye is communicated with besos, a slight lean to the left and kiss on the right cheek of your friend. The first few times, the newness of the besos interaction left me feeling uncertain and awkward, but my hesitance quickly turned into love.

Everyone besos.
Including me.
And, don't be fooled by their soft exterior, besos are serious business.
A few fun examples:

- Every morning, Idealistas staff members make their rounds through all three of the rooms in our office, greeting every employee and volunteer with besos.

- At Idealistas meetings or gatherings, staff greet everyone in the meeting - as well as everyone sitting in the nearby offices with besos before things get underway.

- Business people and teenagers and friends and families can be spotted giving "besos" on streetcorners and on doorsteps all around the city.

- I was recently walking down a hallway at work when I had to pass through a small group of conversing people to get into the next room. I excused myself to pass through and one of the girls stopped me - and with an eyebrown raised asked "besos?". I happily obliged and besos-ed before continuing on my way.

- And my favorite: When a friend arrived at our Spanish school last week, one of the teachers approached her immediately and apologized for not giving her "besos" the last time she had been there.

Besos. I like it. Watch out Minnesota... I plan to initiate some serious cheek-kissing when I get home!

Remembering Haiti.

Eric and I have been anxiously watching and reading news reports as storm after storm has hit Haiti - and as we have waited for word from our friends there. They sent out a letter today with an update on the situation. As we feared, the situation is devastating - thousands of people are without food, water or homes, in a place where so many were already fighting for survival.

If you'd like to learn more, there is an update on AMURT - Haiti's homepage (www.amurthaiti.org). Scroll down or click on "donate" in the home page article for a link to the full letter or the link to their PayPal account. There are also a variety of news updates available online. Here's one that the Associated Press posted just yesterday:
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5gDm7lRAjdXWzCH-GDsdZvbReCqCAD9302EC80

Over and over throughout their history, the people of Haiti seem to have been forgotten by the world when disaster has struck on their shores, and in their lives. But, that does not need to be true this time. I hope you will join me in remembering them and responding as you are able. I invite you pause, to educate your friends and family about this disaster, to donate in support of AMURT's relief efforts ... I invite you to remember them.

In the midst of this tragedy, my friend Dharma wrote from Haiti:
"As these last lines come out on the screen, the downpour outside is hitting the ground in an increasing crescendo. I think of the short-term memory of civilization, and of the merciless nature which indiscriminately affects all, and the deeply innate connection we can feel to the suffering and happiness of others. It is at times of huge suffering that we realize how profound this web of life is, and how irresistible the call for action is."

May we remember them this time.

Paint the Town Green (& Blue & White & Yellow & Red).

Light and Love.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
- Martin Luther King

Creating Causes.

For those of you that are Facebook users, I have fun new developments to share in Causes land. I've created Causes profiles for both AMURT - Haiti and Idealist.org. The Causes application allows organizations to raise awareness and funds for their organizations. Next time you log in, check it out. Within the Causes application, you can search for either organization - the new profile should appear there for you. Or, if you'd like to just check it out, visit my facebook page and click on my Causes tab.

Causes donations are processed through Network for Good, a reputable non-profit donation service. I've seen multiple causes that have raised more than $25,000 through Facebook - Incredible.

Become a member, invite a friend, or just check it out to learn more. I hope to add more photos and materials to both pages as time goes on, so check back often!

Fluent In Hope.

As usual, I was full of questions for Pedro (my spanish teacher) this week. I was asking for clarification about the use of a particular verb when we had my favorite spanish-class-moment so far. Pedro responded to my questioning with his usual kindness, and an extra dose of inspiration.

"Yes, that's one way to say it. But in Spanish, we have 1,000 words for hope - many different ways to express it, depending on the situation."

(1,000 words for hope. What a beautiful thought.)

In that moment, I knew that Pedro and I were kindred somehow - with a something common, something shared at our core. And I knew that I wanted to learn every single hope*filled word.

LIFE Argentina.

Since Eric and I are both working at NGOs that address social issues on a macro level, we haven't had the opportunity to meet, serve and hear the stories of people struggling (with poverty, health, access to education) in Argentina. In our day to day routine here, its easy to start feeling disconnected from the very people that we hope our efforts will eventually serve. So, we've begun to explore additional volunteer opportunities during our free time that allow us to be a part of service on a more direct level as well.

Last weekend, we volunteered with LIFE Argentina (www.lifeargentina.org) - a group working in "socially marginalized and extremely impoverished areas" of Argentina. Their objective is to raise the standard of living for children, giving them new opportunities that encourage their growth and development. Many of their efforts are done collaboratively with orphanages, community centers and soup kitchens throughout Argentina.

Eric and I volunteered at LIFE's celebration for Argentina's "Day of the Child". Together with their partner organizations, LIFE hosted 1,000 children in a city park for games, food and fun. Eric and I took photographs for LIFE and helped to serve lunch. We left inspired and grateful for the good work being done, the kindness and generosity of the people involved, and the opportunity to be a part of it - even for one day.

More LIFE...

Typical (delightful) Days.

As Eric & I settle into life in Buenos Aires, we continue to discover that living in here is a distinct combination of familiar and new. In many ways, our pattern of life here is one that we are used to – getting up in the morning, going to work, living surrounded by people and noises and city energy, having evenings for rest and fun. And, yet, there are little reminders all around us of the new place in which we’re developing familiar routines. There is joy in the discovery.

8:45 - 9 Walk to work. This is the first time that I’ve ever lived in an urban area, with a small enough distance between work and home that I can walk. Its amazing. I love the air in the morning, the movement of the steps, the people on the street – it’s a great way to start the day. During the course of my 10 block walk I cross Avenida 9 de Julio, the widest avenue in the world. Surrounded by grand stone buildings and the steady stream of motion on this magnificent avenue, I welcome the new day.

9 – 1 Idealist.org. I continue to be astounded at the opportunity to be a part of the smart, innovative team at Idealist. My work is interesting and stimulating, and I am hopeful that my efforts will be of help. And not only am I learning an extraordinary amount, I am continually inspired by the work that they do – connecting individuals and organizations to further goodness in the world.

1 – 2 Lunch! Another first: I go home for lunch. As volunteers in a big city, it would be a vast understatement to say that Eric and I are trying to live on a budget. Fortunately, I really like lunch at home.

2 – 5 Spanish (etc). I am taking Spanish classes at Alem Spanish School, again a short little walk from my apartment. When I’m not in class, I try to study during the afternoons to make good use of the opportunity to learn Spanish, while in a Spanish-speaking country. I have also been known to throw a home yoga session in to my afternoon routine every now and then.

[4 – 7 Tea/Snack time. Well, at least for the majority of the country. Most Argentines eat 4 meals a day: breakfast, lunch, tea/snack and dinner. This puts dinner sometime between 8 – 11pm. Eric and I haven’t quite transitioned to this schedule, but we do enjoy coffee and cookies whenever we get a chance.]

During the evenings, Eric and I hang out, try out little coffee shops, read our Argentine history books, watch TV in Spanish (I hear it’s a great way to learn!) and try to find cheap fun. On the weekends, we explore. Our hope is to visit a new neighborhood/town every weekend as we explore this city, hear its stories, learn about its history. Over and over again, there is joy in the discovery.

[Note: The intersection pictured above is Paraguay & Suipacha, the closest intersection to our apartment building.]