There I sat in my sophomore Spanish class. It was 1985. The teacher announced that we had some guests: Jeff and Karen, seniors who had spent the previous summer in Latin America with a program called Amigos de las Americas. They explained that they had spent several weeks in Peru and the Dominican Republic working on health projects like latrine construction, distributing eyeglasses and giving vaccinations. The pictures and stories they shared were amazing and their enthusiasm was contagious. By the time the sign up sheet came around I decided that I didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. I put my name on the paper and passed it on.
Over the next six months I attended weekly meetings with other volunteers to prepare. Among the highlights was learning how to mix concrete to make latrine floors (in case we were assigned latrine construction) and giving each other saline shots (vaccinations). I loved the thought of making a difference. After a few months I received my assignment: Ecuador, a small country in southwest South America. I would be living for six weeks with another volunteer helping the townspeople to build latrines. Not the most glamorous assignment, but I was thrilled. (Later my six-year-old sister told her friends that I was helping to build trains, which sounded much cooler.)
When June finally arrived I was filled with excitement and apprehension. We landed in Quito, the capital, located in the breathtakingly beautiful Andes Mountains. For the first several days we received additional training, and then left for the towns where we would be staying for the next five weeks.
I was assigned the village of Suquibí Viejo (Soo-Kee-BEE Vee-AY-Hoe), located in the central lowlands maybe eight hours from Quito, along with a Vassar student named Kristin. Ecuador prides itself of being “La Mitad del Mundo,” the middle of the world, but this was definitely the middle of nowhere. There may have been twenty-five families in the entire hamlet. And no latrines. OK, that’s not true. The elementary school had two latrines, but I’m not sure they ever got used, including by me, since they involved a 5-10 minute walk. Our job was to help each family build their own. Diedre, our “route leader,” introduced us to several people, including Carlos, the head of the family I would be staying with, and then left to take other volunteers to the next town down the road.
Culture shock naturally set in. Of course no one spoke English and our Spanish was hardly adequate. We floundered, frequently embarrassing ourselves, but survived. Each day I ate with a different family, which helped me get to know everyone, and also led to some occasional awkward situations due to my poor Spanish. (Hint, if someone speaks rapidly and then stops, looking at you expectantly, the correct response may not be “sí.”)
By the end of the time there I made some great friends both among the Ecuadorians and fellow volunteers. It opened a whole new world for me. Before Spanish was just a class in school but now it was the language of all these new experiences. Not surprisingly, my grades in Spanish the next year improved dramatically.
Over the next six months I attended weekly meetings with other volunteers to prepare. Among the highlights was learning how to mix concrete to make latrine floors (in case we were assigned latrine construction) and giving each other saline shots (vaccinations). I loved the thought of making a difference. After a few months I received my assignment: Ecuador, a small country in southwest South America. I would be living for six weeks with another volunteer helping the townspeople to build latrines. Not the most glamorous assignment, but I was thrilled. (Later my six-year-old sister told her friends that I was helping to build trains, which sounded much cooler.)
When June finally arrived I was filled with excitement and apprehension. We landed in Quito, the capital, located in the breathtakingly beautiful Andes Mountains. For the first several days we received additional training, and then left for the towns where we would be staying for the next five weeks.
I was assigned the village of Suquibí Viejo (Soo-Kee-BEE Vee-AY-Hoe), located in the central lowlands maybe eight hours from Quito, along with a Vassar student named Kristin. Ecuador prides itself of being “La Mitad del Mundo,” the middle of the world, but this was definitely the middle of nowhere. There may have been twenty-five families in the entire hamlet. And no latrines. OK, that’s not true. The elementary school had two latrines, but I’m not sure they ever got used, including by me, since they involved a 5-10 minute walk. Our job was to help each family build their own. Diedre, our “route leader,” introduced us to several people, including Carlos, the head of the family I would be staying with, and then left to take other volunteers to the next town down the road.
Culture shock naturally set in. Of course no one spoke English and our Spanish was hardly adequate. We floundered, frequently embarrassing ourselves, but survived. Each day I ate with a different family, which helped me get to know everyone, and also led to some occasional awkward situations due to my poor Spanish. (Hint, if someone speaks rapidly and then stops, looking at you expectantly, the correct response may not be “sí.”)
By the end of the time there I made some great friends both among the Ecuadorians and fellow volunteers. It opened a whole new world for me. Before Spanish was just a class in school but now it was the language of all these new experiences. Not surprisingly, my grades in Spanish the next year improved dramatically.
So what does this have to do with my name? Well, the following year I did Amigos again, this time volunteering in . . . Panamá.
4 comments:
Excellent. It's so great that you are sharing these experiences. After all, these experiences have led to the person you are today!
BTW- LOVE the improvements on the blog site! Now I feel like I should do something w/mine! :)
So.... how many latrines did you help dig?
Annette,
I could tell many more stories, and some day I may. Glad you like the change in scenery.
Farscaper,
18 comes to mind for that summer. None were completed by the time we left, but many were well on their way.
-----it's been a "few" years----- tell me the names of the people in the group! And----- do you have a picture of one of your "trains?"
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