Tag: Bolivia

Carry on

May 24, 2021 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

Getting the opportunity to help people learn English on Cambly has played a part in reviving my travel volunteer and work goals. I think they had partially been repressed by the necessary hiatus we had to take.Travel adventures seem possible again.

Taking longer walks now, thanks to the Spring and its sun, I am reminded of the comforting exciting walks around places like Bolivia, Peru, and Cuba.

I am psyched how much closer we are getting to recounting memories in the places we have been and yet capturing new moments and people in our circles.

I am excited for the sensory overload and promises in the times we get to create and try new things. What a joy to try reliving everything that makes us laugh and relax the days away.

I am preparing to step up to the issues that don’t seem to go away, knowing I do not have to deal with them without the comforts I now require for my every day.

If you are interested in more information about Cambly, I have included their info on our Community page. It is ideal for the nomadic and/or traveling life or just meeting and helping more people.

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This One: She Rolls off the Tongue

JANUARY 29, 2020 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

Cochabamba was about to be forever a part of my lexicon (though I have to admit I was unfamiliar with this city in Bolivia) but also how lightly she begins and rolls off the tongue. Leaving La Paz and Sucre, I had admittedly tucked an entire country away into a box. For shame. There was no love like my love of Peru until a couple days following the warm night I rolled into Cochabamba’s main bus station. Even getting to that terminal sparked my senses. Instantly I felt incredibly underdressed. After roughing my way a bit between the cities, there was a notable difference between me and the passersby. Though I had gained a real knack for cleaning up quite nicely in between physically demanding volunteer life, this area shouted modern city life and it didn’t hurt that the timing wasn’t all that far from Carnaval.

Cochabamba was another one of those completely unexpected circumstances in my South American plans. I can’t forget falling into a daily routine there (that could have continued so effortlessly for so much longer) and it’s almost a little scary to think I entertained the thought even for just a moment of not being able to stop there. Roads not taken and what not. I would have allowed a very important chapter to pass me by.

Good on my three (co- Pisco volunteer) friends to end up there for some time. (It was meant for me to hang out with them again and sadly revisit my goodbyes when it was time to legitimately cross back over the Peruvian border.

I promise as soon as my girl, Margaret knew I had reached this magical Bolivian city, she asked just why I couldn’t stay with her and her current roommate rather than anywhere else. Made sense. After all I was finally there and not quite there – at her place yet. Her “can’t you just stay here” in that genuinely hospitable British accent took me back to a myriad of sentiments, never to be erased.

What I had done was not taken for granted the ease with which I might be able to get to their part of the city from the bus station at night – planning mixed with a lack of planning on my part. I was left corresponding with her from the quaint hostel I had reserved just prior to arrival. Thankfully, I saw very little of it – save for a short night, followed by a brief stop back to retrieve my barely unpacked things). I would spend the rest of her subleasing time with her before we moved on. Leaving the hostel like hotel, I could see the remnants of the staff’s peculiar looks about me and/or my fleeting situation. Certain curious looks are just now something I’ve really come to appreciate😊. It probably means I’m on the right path.

My timing came together. I made it to the spacious apartment for Margaret’s birthday celebration, and it could have been my own😊. Reconnecting in Cochabamba also meant reconnecting with Juan de España/Spain and our American friend, Friedrich (all of us: PSF throwbacks). We were easily prepared to be as thick as thieves with mostly good and some daring intentions. Margaret and her roomie’s temporary subleased space was that of a Brazilian couple currently on holiday. Her birthday night was easy: Catching up. Cracking up. Dinner followed by dancing before our days would fall into the lovely routine of responsibilities laced with paradise.

ADMITTEDLY BIASED

DECEMBER 31, 2019 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

Apologies for my first impression of Bolivia. I know well enough you cannot judge a whole place for one part of it. You can’t judge it by one city and you certainly can’t judge it by a couple of neighborhoods, but I did. Living volunteer life in Peru had become part of my core and I became unwittingly underwhelmed by my first two stops in its neighboring country. La Paz and Sucre didn’t stand much of chance though I took full advantage of intriguing touring opportunities, both official and personal which included the museums, the dinosaur footprints and my temporary local confectionery shop. Perhaps the experience back at customs still had me a little bit twisted. Add to that a few more blasé and curt interactions with shopkeepers and strangers here and there and I realized I had too much of a welcoming sought-after experience in Pisco and Cusco to settle for anything less.

However, I should especially note something at which I’m working on being better – something I need to remind myself of is not allowing pain to overshadow all that is positive. I started writing this a week ago because I was reminded of my lessons by a sweet encounter with an elderly lady following not so pleasant encounters with a few stressed out holiday shoppers. I was headed for the gym. I was feeling light on life but had to admit the unusual unreturned smiles, the vacant thank yous and nearly being walked into was getting under my skin.

I was moved by this elderly lady’s kiss on the cheek and hug due to my simple act of leading her to a store she could not find. I understood the difficulty. It was covertly located in the basement level of the nearby mall and I realized just simply pointing out the directions along with her limited mobility would most likely mean leaving her just as lost. It wasn’t much for me to slow down and walk a little way back to make sure it was in her sight. Her gratitude and compliments were unexpected – an endearing bonus. This is not about me but the truth is I see people doing courteous things and being friendly more often than not. Her energy demanded I set my ill feelings for the others aside.

Likewise, I remember instances like the sun warmly shining along my path in safe surroundings in Sucre and La Paz. I remember good hospitality wherever I stayed and as noted, I never minded stopping by that Sucre confection shop on my walks back to my temporary place.

Times in Bolivia would get so much better. (I would battle tears when it was time to leave). Whereas the premiere cities had not piqued my interest, Cochabamba was waiting to get me completely turned around. Three of my former co-volunteer friends from Pisco had settled there for a bit and incidentally they were waiting for my visit. One was volunteering at a school in the outskirts. My primary goal was to arrive by her birthday. I would get there just in time.

Image 1 Poswiecie
Image 3 Jamie Norman

The Real

DECEMBER 6, 2019 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

Before my current travels, I left you with a taste of or rather a lot of my life in the desert of Peru. I shared heading a bit further to Arequipa and Cusco, and especially Machu Picchu. Well, back then, a younger me had decided before my 183-day stay was up, I needed to follow the best advice I knew on how to extend my time in Peru. I knew in order to continue or rather stay again; I would need to leave. I would need to leave the country and reenter it to reset my time. I had planned ahead, at least mentally and although it would cost me some bolivianos (as a US citizen), I knew Bolivia was my next abbreviated stop. I selected it for various reasons before I left the US for South America and for some additional ones once I was there.

People especially get to worrying about you when you’re away in a land foreign from the one you share with them and I imagine there was some relief knowing I was around new friends in various spots. Yet, still, there is a sense of imagining you alone, because truly you are apart from the foundation of the familiarity you shared with them and though you can feel complete on some days, this is also what can feed into your own homesickness and loneliness.

God rest my mother’s beautiful soul. She was no longer with us when I first ventured away from the States. This was only to Canada but knowing how much she worried about my father and each of my brothers, even for example, when I was two hours away at school or even when we were out longer than expected, this would have been a lot for her. Knowing her history, before I was here, I understood it to be linked to her childhood and losing her mother. My heart is warmed and twisted further still realizing that while we may mistakenly think dads not remembering the specifics of crushes, current best friend’s names, or who sits behind you in 5th period science means their nerves are made of more steel, this is not necessarily the truth. My dad was a traveler before my parents met and married, but I found him to be just as worried in his own way – at the same time excited for me – at the same time relieved when my feet were back on Washington DC soil followed by a visit to Ohio. I can’t help but miss all the unique things he would have to say to us in the most unique ways.

Actually, I have to now be perfectly honest with you. This post took a turn. I was ready to share how I entered La Paz, Bolivia. However, I’m holding space for my parents now… for our parents… a moment of recognition for hard work instilled in us, for compassion, for the ability to grow and for gratitude. I look forward to sharing again and I don’t even know what comes next (though I kinda think I do) but I’m happy to have a space to create and express and share and be thankful. Thank you.

Warm regards,

Always,

Cassandra Johnson

Pleasantly Confused

January 21, 2019 by Cassandra Johnson

Since it has been a while since I landed in Lima, I plan on being a little confused, but not as nervously confused as I was when I got off the plane initially. I won’t be as turned around as I was when I got to my one overnight stay in the capital and affection alone will replace the pleasing confusion of everything I saw in the volunteer organization yard my first Friday night.

Prior to my arrival, I took care to take notes from my guide book on what to expect when traveling around Peru. I smiled through sections on the lovely cuisines, read about animal diversity, history and culture. I pictured myself there while looking up additional online resources and altogether I paired this with tips from my organization on how I should prepare for living in Pisco and helping with earthquake recovery.

Volunteering and philanthropy have captured my attention for a while. As a little girl, I was intrigued by the sound bite Literacy Volunteer commercials. I lent some assistance to a similar organization in college. I decided to also become one of my school’s conversation language partners. The program helped international college students adjust to English and US culture. I moved to DC and taught English one day a week after work, although I didn’t know I would be comfortable leading a classroom. (Truly, some days were much better than others.)

In the various forms of connection, I realized, as it is true with everyone, it’s difficult for anyone to live their goals when faced with a lack of necessities. We all need help. Moving forward, I have been excited to be in a number of places but admittedly, I was uncertain about navigating a four-hour bus ride from the major Peruvian city. With a friend’s crafty suggestion, I went to my new organization’s Facebook page to ask if anyone would be traveling from Lima to Pisco on my dates. It was right away that my friend-to-be from Spain responded, but unfortunately ended up having to postpone his arrival a bit. A second response followed soon after and another future friend and I soon synchronized our schedules. She would be traveling from Rhode Island and it seemed now that my preplanning at home (vaccinations, discussions, readings, etc.) were falling into place with my plans abroad.

Hiccups would still come, and they are not to be unexpected, but I think the planning efforts and mental preparation are helpful when it comes to powering through and you actually already get a sense during those not-so-smooth moments that you are going to look back on them and laugh. You find yourself even laughing a little at the time, as in “Is this for real?” and “You gotta be kidding me right now.” Powering through comes to serve you as you become more confident about your ability to figure things out. The more you start down that road, the more you get into the thick of things and the further you move away from the start line, you kinda already know you most likely are going to cross it. No matter that it’s not a photo finish.

I had begun with one travel inconvenience at DC’s National Airport. My luggage had been over the weight restrictions. I was shifting things around and this could have been pretty standard save for the fact that it was a little intimidating trying to sift through what was regulation appropriate to carry on in a limited amount of time. I was additionally internalizing the serious look on the airline agent’s face. She had read my future return date in a tone and it was as though I felt she held my security checkpoint fate in her hands. This could have proved all too much for a newbie international volunteer.

Amazingly, however, a gentleman offered to buy me an extra airline bag as he simultaneously made the purchase. Such unexpected generosity from a stranger! Now that I had another spacious piece of luggage to play around in, I thanked him profusely. He smiled and said, “Maybe she will pay it forward.” The airline agent smiled at me for what I’m fairly certain was the first time. She echoed how nice it was and said that I was already paying it forward. Since I had previously shared my travel purposes, she shared them with him. I was still on my wow, thank you and seeing that starting out all twisted at the ticket counter wasn’t an omen after all.

My flight and layover were smooth. Customs through Lima’s airport took what I expected to be a considerable but standard amount of time. When I reached the customs official in Lima, I readily answered the length of stay question for the maximum number of days. He looked up from what I guessed was usually a pretty mundane question. He seemed intrigued but somehow still robotic. I had chosen the 183 days that I was permitted to stay continuously. I knew I would actually stay longer. I would just need to extend my stay by leaving Peru and returning within the time limit and Bolivia would be my destination for this. Coincidentally, some wonderful friends ended up being there during that time as well. I had looked forward to traveling to Bolivia in general and additionally relaying my experience to my ex back home who also happened to be from there. Having some volunteer friends (my second family) there made it that much sweeter.

The customs official final response that day? A 183-day passport stamp and the prediction, “You’ll fall in love.” I was wondering if he meant with a person or the country. It could have been both.

continues next week

Travel to be continued…

January 7, 2019 by Cassandra Johnson

I am still trying to work out the logistics for my trip back to Peru. I was particularly intense about this while at the gym on Christmas Eve and I recall tossing reality around with nostalgia while working out a little harder than usual. The gym would be closed for Christmas and I was hard at work because I wanted to be particularly chill and comfortable with feasting delightfully the next day.

I have known for a while that I need to reignite my personally designed humanitarian tour that began in 2010. During that time span, I volunteered with an earthquake disaster relief organization in Pisco, Peru. I later volunteered at a school in Cusco, Peru and finally ended up in the adorable daycare section at Proyecto Horizonte in Cochabamba, Bolivia.

I am returning late for the Pisco Sin Fronteras (PSF) 10ish year reunion (planned for December) but I’m still planning on visiting my friends of Pisco and reconnecting in person. We’ve been communicating over the years with the promise of seeing each other again but I was more than a little afraid that our salutations were turning into simple expressions.

Returning is one of those things in my life that I know is happening but I don’t have the organization completely laid out yet. It’s one of my travel plans that starts out as an interestingly muddled outline that eventually becomes an almost complete straight path, from my apartment to the airport to the country to the cities to the cathedrals to the museums to the dance clubs. It is a path that becomes delightfully jumbled (just ask Cuba).

I see it happening. I know I will . . . and soon too, because February is on the the horizon! I plan on being under the Peruvian sun on my birthday.