Category: volunteering

What to Work

April 29, 2026 by Cassandra Johnson

My Venezuelan friend gave me permission she did not realize she was giving me. She okayed my desire to get a lot of work in and feel thoroughly as if I had gotten my day’s work done before I went down the street from our co-living space in Bogota, Colombia to the nearby mall.

She had given me permission to do what I really wanted to do, while most everyone else was touring. She had given me the permission to get work done and relax and maybe tour later, or not tour at all, but rather just live the local moments. She had given me permission, not literally, but by being my friend, she had given me permission to do what I wanted authentically.

Heading to the mall or store (I would see), I was remembering the options they had in the food court and heck, maybe even stopping off earlier at the store that very much reminded me of Trader Joe’s back in my country. Should I cook something simple from the place we are sharing with other travelers today or should I get some ready-prepared casual food to go? I had a chance to do a mix of both.

I cannot adequately attribute the details of the entire moments to each day. Over the variety of times, I grabbed some snacks and easy options to cook in the shared kitchen. One of my favorite restaurants, Qbano (a cute play on Cubano) was a frequent stop in the mall. I recall getting the mixed veggie bowl and crispy thick fries. I added some churros to offer my friend once I returned.

I had booked my stay in the area for several days. yet was extending my days little by little at the end, considering whether I should go to Cartagena or an entirely different country. As we sat there in the evening, in my comfort of working across from her at the large, shared desk, she was asking me if I had decided to go the next day, disappointed when I said yes and visibly relieved when I said I was staying a little longer.

She gave me the permission, without her knowing, she gave me the permission to be myself, not only comfortable as a workaholic, ticking things down off my list, but also there for the exploring, wandering, and fun.

I sat there, peaceful in having this time and being in the not-so-familiar position of following up to see when she would be free to grab a coffee, not happy hour, in this instance. Coffee-shop mood was the matching backdrop for our dynamic. She had introduced me to Varietale, when she could not join and was still working from our temporary place and I was looking forward to going to Liberatario with her, not too far from our place. She had good taste. Liberatario was within walking distance and Varietale had been within exercise-walking distance for me.

One night she did not seem too entirely into working, although I assumed she was, but yet as she invited me to the other side of the table to see what captured her, I was pleased to see she was enjoying the Miss Universe 2024 Pageant. She was rooting for Miss Venezuela as we gathered around her computer, I rooted for several contestants. Miss Venezuela, Miss Mexico and Miss Nigeria. Miss Nigeria, was so gorgeous. We were impressed by many, interested in all the contestants’ performances, category by category. Miss Denmark had some inspiring answers.

Another guest, also her friend was rooting for Miss Nigeria only. (Nee- her-ia) he lingeringly enunciated, lingering especially in the middle (as if in those moments, he was within momentary dreams). I giggled to myself. He was from Venezuela too, waiting for a consulate appointment in Colombia. He was always so friendly, genuinely interested in all the people circulating around this bit of office space and in and out of the adjacent kitchen.

My friend. Glad to have her for the time, if not every time. I returned to the same place months later. She had gone. I thought of her often while I conversed with others in our old space. She and I had settled into safety in everything: food, giggles, chats over romantic prospects, geopolitics, Making easy work of work, It was a need for us both, I like to think.

I remembered the story she told me of dangerously crossing the Venezuelan-Colombian border. I was impressed by the business she had grown and how social media savvy she was. I watched one of her many video presentations. I was excited when she received another new client, while we were together. Her eyes filled with happy tears from the excitement I expressed.

We sat in Liberatario the last night, shortly before I would finally be leaving. We had mentioned discussing in detail, some romantic disappointment I had recently experienced, but then, I no longer had the desire to spend those moments lamenting a jilted relationship. We could just enjoy ourselves. There is a time for venting but it dissipated in the ambience.

I just wanted the space and the time that we always made. She told me of one downside to her business experience to which I relayed some comforting advice in Spanish, that felt more as if it was being delivered through me than by me. Mostly our laughter mixed, we appreciated the artwork around us and a simple break from working – a break from trying.

Travel in What Pictures Cannot Capture

January 27, 2026 by Cassandra Johnson
Travel in what pictures cannot capture.
Travel in that, from which pictures can just borrow a piece.

When I first landed in Merida, I did not expect to stay so long, though I thought it efficient to run out my tourist Visa. (180 days).

I look at my photos, yes picturesque, yet they do not capture all the beauty and anguish interwoven into the weeks. They don’t match the ease I felt sitting in the sun after a long project and drinking agua fresca. Salsa in the bar. Daily free performances. Restaurant stands. Cute shops. The pictures do not capture the taste of a good Mexican meal, only the appearance and sometimes, they mistakenly highlight a tasteless Yucatecan one.

The pictures are graciously appreciated yet also inconsiderate of the anxiety I felt leaving a nice Merida neighborhood for an inconvenient one.

Pictures borrow a piece from the scenery, they borrow a piece from the nostalgia, they borrow a piece from the senses that engage in the moment. They borrow from the delight and sometimes veil the anxious spirit. They borrow and allow a revisit to the places, to the feelings and sometimes uplift a moment that was not uplifting and alternately dull a moment absolutely beyond exhilarating.

The experiences were unimaginable. I am glad I tested out a desire to see the Mexican city among the many, and look forward to soon seeing if the feelings, both okay and good, are still there. Yet, short, round-trip ticket, this time.😊

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Far-reaching

January 26, 2026 by Cassandra Johnson
Feeling within the capacity to be strong enough
Knowing well the reserve of willingness and resilience
Feeling the mirage of perceived limitation
all the time, knowing the goals obtained. As well, projected.

I started talking to my new coach just one week ago and connecting with her again this week, I knew we were a good match. Being yourself without having to prove yourself is one of the nicest places to be.

Safe space lies in authentic encouragement and likewise, in the acknowledgment of skills and accomplishments. Being seen.

Being encouraged to continue to do work that aligns with my passions is satiating. I thank her for the tools to progress even further and to be kind with even the personally coping steps that landed at my past goals, just the same.

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Unlocked

December 31, 2025 by Cassandra Johnson

The stumbling blocks along  the path. Duly recognized.

No reason to be ashamed when what is true is that you made it through.

 A past survived. No need to let go when the world continues to hold on to you.

[May 2026 publications, additions]

Life lessons. Varying. Aptly recognized, I now have more information to take on my next project plus travel endeavors. Maybe there is an enhanced way to complete my translation, teach a student, and travel to South America? There may be parts I can skip altogether.

Without reinventing myself. I can embrace the highlights and the issues I have had to improve my steps and continue helping local and international communities.

A Little Direction

December 30, 2025 by Cassandra Johnson

I took a couple of local trips. Perhaps, I will be able to work something out in January too.

I am working out some combination to include volunteering and working but with some significant changes that work better for my schedule and the assistance I can provide to the organization I choose. I will circle back around as updates come.

The first year of my blog captured a lot of my volunteer thoughts abroad. I highlight Peru and my previous experiences with disaster relief, in particular. I also have some time that touches a little on volunteering in the US. I always wanted to do both, but there are times when I feel it becomes tainted by the leadership structure.

There are other times I joined projects in my home state before doing so in DC, when I first moved to DC, and other projects in places like Ecuador and Bolivia, but what I want to do also becomes limited by my job. Overall I am intrigued to volunteer some more, because I feel it fits well into continuing to learn with others and grow together. This time, perhaps, my efforts will just be a little different. My work experience may lean a lot more to what I can do and also changing who I am.

Cali, Colombia

November 30, 2025 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

Cali. I had a feeling I would really like this major Colombian city. Nice and warm, I found myself taking a stroll each day looking for a particular food spot or coffee shop. From a variety of points, I could work/chill with a little dessert and a warm variation of a sweet beverage. Cafe mocha, cappuccino, etc and by now, I had also developed a taste for Colombian coffee. The only factors slowing me down were the hills and the steep drop offs, some occasional rain. I was continuously walking up, reminding myself that it was going to be so much easier coming back, but honestly the steep downslopes were something one should brace for as well.

Well, I made it and I notice that once I know there is a spot within reach, no matter how far, I am compelled to get there, even foolhardily. I laughingly remember a friend getting lost from his hostel in Cochabamba, Bolivia and he said something to the effect that if you are going to wander off, don’t do it downhill, seeing as how he had to return at the opposite angle, righting himself up a steep incline.😊

I leaned into Cali’s ambience. People were friendly, not too particularly focused on what my story might be, but still engaging, treating me as if I could be from there or aptly treating me like a welcome guest. Cartagena would later prove similar, though the weather was much hotter.

Cali had left me curious. It was a place where more people looked like me and previously, I had just spent a day or less there. Fortunately, I was able to stay for about 12 days this latter time, since I could be flexible with my bus tickets from there back to Bogota. I liked purchasing them in person on the day of my trip, leaving my bags in the bus terminal luggage storage, so I could be free to walk about and eat in the city, leaving any weight behind. I also left them behind when arriving before accommodation check-in times.

I knew the bus station well by now. I had taken to the budget travel option over the flight I took into Colombia primarily when I arrived the very first time in Colombia and stayed in Medellin.   

Cali is a place I could have stayed for a majority of my 90-day Visa but I was also ready to get back to the chillier Bogota for a work minus distraction strategy that Bogota was more suitable to me for, and what I needed to fit in before stopping in Cartagena and getting out a somewhat underrated country, before I was required to leave altogether.

Some Days

November 28, 2025 by Cassandra Johnson

Recently, I had the nice experience of helping a South Korean adult student study his English. I use a platform that allows me to help students through general conversations with whatever they would like to discuss or by using structured lessons.

I prefer logging in when I have extra time, I rarely have regularly scheduled students. I prefer not having a set schedule whereas I am able to engage with people who choose to call me when we both happen to be online. We make a good match, because they can look at my profile and/or intro video and decide if they would like to use their lesson time with me. I once volunteered teaching English as a second language for a couple years on a set schedule in DC, 6 months alongside other volunteer work in Peru and again when I explored church for a while. The online space has opened it up to me again.

The students are from a variety of countries with different goals for learning English, which could be professional, academic or as a hobby. I enjoy getting to meet them and even seeing that some of them select me again when we happen to be online at the same time again.

The online English tutoring platform is where I spend some of my spare time, only keeping a set schedule from time to time, when students especially request it. Now that I work as a full-time freelance translator following a long line of other work experience (most recently in non-profits), I like having this additional side space as it still speaks to my literary and language passions and sharing international experiences.

Fitting

October 31, 2025 by Cassandra Johnson

Accepting all I deserve?

It’s coming easier.

I am reminiscent of how not to deny myself. I am reminded not to expect less. I am reminded of insistent examples.

I am reminded of my 31st birthday via my brother and us sharing ideas and outlooks.

I am swept up in the memory of that birthday, of inviting friends to share the date with me, to enjoy our time together. I do not remember being especially hungry. I enjoyed the food. I enjoyed the drinks but I mostly recalled the satiation being filled by the company and their intentions.

I am struck by the memory of a celebration of many friends from different parts of my life coming together and how supported I felt in their respect for each other out of their own interests and their respect for me. I love seeing them in their element and not too focused on me, unnaturally, but very fluidly focused on me and our relationships.

I was captured by them, captured by the presence we stayed in. Wrapping up our goodbyes intermittently as they had to leave, I am struck how I could ask for what I really wanted and be treated so deserving.

What I really was reflecting on is how stark it could be to stay in this mode when life’s pressures mount around you and you’re most likely in work mode.

Interestingly in a space of employing so much effort, a lot more factors like bosses and profit work to the effect of convincing you of not being deserving and of extracting more of you than is willing to be given in return. I have been talked out of acknowledging what I deserve in these spaces but now I am reminded. Examples of being deserving are insistent and luckily, my family/friend support system is as well.

Rather Than

September 30, 2025 by Cassandra Johnson

Tossing around stories with friends for Happy Hour or during dinner following all too familiar office politics, I kept an optimism that maybe countered the arbitrary criticisms leveled from my boss. Maybe the natural optimism came from a young lifetime of hoping and daydreaming.

I always felt like there was more to everything, so much more to come. Maybe all the books and novels in my arsenal did that too. After the fairytales, into the stories, through the essays and falling out of the plays, there was some underlying promise of relief, release. Good times. Deep laughs. Good meals. A dive into all that my senses could soak up was my trained escape from a heavy day. A lot of goodness could be outlined by the security and fun I had in a childhood of fun with siblings and a family I could trust with my quirkiness and true thoughts. My already fantasizing mind was filled with optimism to counter my criticisms. My backdrop of support, affection and progress stood up to bad experiences and mistreatment.

This was the norm I became increasingly aware of when I embarked on my own, from large campus and graduate from The Ohio State University to eventual work life in DC . I was pretty excited about both. Work became increasingly less exciting, however. I know there is something more.

Turns out a lot of work holds space for office politics and underpayment. I saw this come about even if it was not already present and it didn’t seem to be so bad. It hurt my boss’s mind that I could be discredited and only be temporarily discouraged and angry. I knew that my progress and sustainability really was based on the need to be okay and the hope that my good times would visit me again and again. My dreams had shown themselves to be kind to my reality, so I swallowed a lot of the work stress.

Even just letting the workday wash away from me in my apartment after work or at the gym was a lot to start to let go. Eventually, I wanted more. I needed more freedom while I also worked on doing something meaningful.

Stretching out on the sofa or cuddling into my armchair, eating my favorite meals, I got to relax maybe just for the evening or for two whole days before Sunday dread and Monday morning. Everyone at work looked forward to Friday, a telling tale of this not being the ideal environment or way we would prefer to spend our time, although there were varying levels of getting into the activities of the job. I would not mind and enjoy some parts, while dreading other aspects of my work. Is it just natural?

I could no longer do it. I needed to go away for a while, maybe forever and I found myself back in San Juan, then Mexico, Peru, Colombia, Ecuador, Guatemala and Panama City. I needed to take these trips again, away from the toxic work environment, working on my own to get back to myself and not fighting through infringing work ideas but rather more of me, getting to know me and focus on me, being independent, working on my own, being my daydream.

I knew.

September 29, 2025 By Cassandra Johnson

The weather in Bogota, Colombia was chilly, so I was not particularly sure about enjoying a long time there. Sometimes the weather was even cooler and the nerve I had, on certain days, to also get caught in the rain! I tend to get cold easily.

I was missing the Medellin weather truly, for a beat, but had a strong feeling that Bogota would be more enjoyable for me. How is that? I knew it would not be as pricey as Medellin. I knew I could have more of a casual working life while I was abroad versus my days and nights in Medellin. It would feed my more pressing focus to earn a living and enjoy myself in my spare time. My notion stuck with me.

Tourism, nightlife and ideal weather was ripe in Medellin, in my opinion, nice but seriously distracting from my everyday routine. I was in a similar boat in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

Bogota filtered in some sun as well. I was pleasantly surprised by the welcoming spaces and the absence of feeling watched or out of place, but due to my good time in other parts of Latin America, I was also not surprised. I was so affirmed by my encounters and surroundings, that this would be my trip 1 of 2 to the capital city.

I started the first trip with some mediocrity. I did not especially care for the hotel I had chosen. To my relief, I had only booked one day and decided to try a nice hostel for the remaining few days. I had flexibility and could stay or leave early. I was considering Cartagena for the next stop or leaving Colombia completely. I did not feel hurried, only limited by which way I wanted to invest my money.

Leaving the Bogota hotel, I thought this would perhaps be one of those times in which the hostel was nicer than the hotel. I was right.

Indeed, I was able to secure a nicer place by checking into a new, spacious hostel. Though a shared space, I opted for one of the all-ladies room leading to a new friendship with a Venezuelan businesswoman.

The hotel had nice amenities and a receptive staff, but the hostel was more conducive to my goals, more aesthetically appealing and the staff and other travelers proved even more receptive. How interesting that staying at the hotel, in this instance would have painted a less pleasant picture of my stay there.

Returning to Bogota about a month later, I specifically wanted to run out my 90-day Visa and I opted to treat myself. I picked the Calendario neighborhood this time and an AirBnB that also served as an upscale local high-rise. The view was amazing, the front desk reminded me of my space in DC and at the time, I felt this was the closest to the experience I would want if I chose to live in Colombia instead of Peru, so it was good to try it out. I don’t know if I would stay there for longer than 3 months. There is warmth there, but maybe I still need more. Searching.