So long, Sarah

Living in rural Bolivia, you develop some skills that are very useful in navigating the culture, little dos and don'ts that help put others at ease with you. Things like greeting everyone when you enter a room shows that you are kind and considerate enough to respect local traditions.

Sadly, Sarah is leaving Bolivia in December after volunteering for two years as in-house grant coordinator, supervisor of the student cooperative, visitor coordinator, English professor, and many, many other roles. She will be interviewing for graduate school in the United States, and I'm afraid she has picked up some of these habits that may not serve her well in the interview. Here's a handy checklist of dos and don'ts for her to help out.

• Do greet the interviewer warmly with good eye contact and a pleasant smile. Don't lean in and pat the interviewer on the shoulder when you shake hands. Kissing on the cheek is probably not expected, either.



• Talking about the weather, although superficial, is an appropriate social lubricant, as long as it is not exaggerated. However, if it is raining, don't ask the interviewer, "Why are you crying?"



• Do order something modest on the menu, and if the interviewer orders a drink, you may also do so. Whatever the case, don't shake out your cup before you fill it. Certainly don't insist that you drink your drinks together, and finish in one gulp.



• Make polite conversation, bringing your intercultural experiences into the conversation, and highlighting how these experiences have shaped your worldview. Don't talk passionately for very long about chuños, however, no matter how interesting you think this subject matter is.



• Portions may be smaller than you are accustomed to, especially after plates piled high with rice, boiled plantains, potatoes and other starchy vegetables. In any case, don't ask for a yapa -- an little extra -- when the food comes to the table, no matter how small your portion.



• Perhaps you will be suffering some intestinal disorder upon your return. If so, do see a doctor and have a test to identify the ailment. However, discussing your malady at the table is not expected. Shouting "Here it comes, amoebas!" when you start to eat is especially bad form. If you can't finish your lunch, you may ask the waitperson to bring you a carry out container. Don't whip out a plastic baggie, then stuff the food into your handbag.



• Practically all septic systems in the U.S. are designed to handle toilet paper, so do flush it down. Don't complain that there were no wastepaper baskets in the restroom and you had to throw your toilet paper on the floor of the stall.



• Do follow the interviewer's lead when it comes to ordering dessert or coffee after the meal. You may have become accustomed to drinking sweet, hot beverages in Bolivia, so although it may be tempting, don't put five tablespoons of sugar in your coffee.



• Some foods, like shrimp and pizza, are considered "finger food," so picking them up to eat them is entirely acceptable. Do use your napkin to wipe your hands after eating finger food, and after the meal. And although perfectly normal in the campo, don't pull out a roll of toilet paper to wipe your hands and mouth in the restaurant -- the waitperson will be happy to bring you additional napkins if you so request. However, don't snap your fingers or hiss to get the attention of the waitperson. A small wave -- and sometimes only eye contact -- is enough to draw attention.



• Do thank the interviewer for lunch, and for the opportunity to talk. However, don't say "provecho" to each individual if there are many of you at the table, or to other people in the restaurant.

Hopefully these friendly tips will bring her success in her quest for a position at the graduate school of her choice. Adelante, Sarah! We will miss you.

Kid Paradise

More from volunteer Elizabeth Niels.
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It would be hard to have more fun than the little kids have here in Carmen Pampa. Carmen Pampa is Kid Paradise for a million reasons, but I'll just cite a few. First, our K-12 school has been canceled for the last month due to a teachers' strike, which are fairly common in Bolivia. That in and of itself would constitute paradise for most children, but then there are all the adventures, too. Carmen Pampa is surrounded by perfectly magical places to explore: waterfalls, mountain paths, citrus trees and even construction sites. And we have plenty of animals here -- horses, dogs, cows, sheep and chickens, etc. -- all roaming around freely and just asking to be played with or harassed. At the end of the day, if all that gets old, there are always gringas like me around to tease. It's heaven for kids.

When I first got here, I was struck at the kids' freedom. Boys as young as four run in packs all day long and girls wander around in smaller groups. Certainly none of these kids have formal "play dates." Parents don't spend hours in the car driving them from one activity to the next and kids don't log hours in front of the television. Most of the time the kids at Carmen Pampa can be found playing with found junk, like metal bars or the lids of rusty paint cans; the other day they were sliding down the dirt hillside on an old jagged sled of metal. And the kids aren't shy about including me in their games, which makes me wonder if they’ve ever been told not to talk to strangers. I doubt it -– after all, hitch-hiking is the norm, and the older kids are pros at climbing on a moving bumper.

But, of course, it's not all good. Not having school for weeks at a time (as much as they may love it) is of course a huge academic setback for the kids. Plus, many of the kids are dirty inside and out –- many wear the same dirty, ill-fitting clothes everyday and some have intestinal worms and tooth decay. One of my favorite five-year-olds, Nathaniel, looks like he's recently lost his baby teeth, but if he opens his mouth wide, you'll see that his teeth are actually just little more than rotten numbs in his gums. His two-year-old sister's teeth are already beginning to turn brown.

Really, though, Nathaniel and the kids here at Carmen Pampa have it great compared to some other kids in Bolivia. Perhaps the kids who suffer most in this country are the urban street kids who have either been abandoned or have to work to support their families. These kids are ubiquitous in cities like La Paz and earn their money shining shoes, selling candy, or calling out the destinations of the minibuses used for public transportation. About 80 percent of them are boys, whom I've seen filthy and exhausted trying to sleep tucked away in protected city corners.

I have one of these abandoned kids in my English class. Eulogio was abused and abandoned as a child and worked on a construction crew throughout his boyhood. When his construction crew came to work in Carmen Pampa, the head of the university where I teach rescued him and started him at Carmen Pampa's primary school. Eulogio had never attended school before, and at 14-years-old he started first grade. Now in his early 20s Elogio is in his second year of the university and he's one of my best students.

But back to the kids at Carmen Pampa -– the kids who have it good. I find it fascinating that their traditional childhood experience is so foreign to me. These days in America, it's not uncommon to hear people lament the end of the traditional childhood -- lost to packed extracurricular schedules and video games. I am thrilled to have found a place childhood still exists in all its magical Peter Pan glory. And someday, if I ever have a family, I'd like to bring my own kids to Carmen Pampa to experience this wild, free, limitless childhood – the way people say childhood was meant to be. Maybe it's crazy, but instead of fear, I plan to feel pride when my kid hitches his or her first a ride on the back of a bumper.