by Kyle W. Konrad '09
With the help of a Dean Rusk grant, an auxiliary Bonner Fund, and a gamble as to whether or not one of Bush's stimulus packages would wind up on my door step, I traveled to South America to study the way student movements affected democracy by use of riots, petitions, strikes, and general chaos. I arrived in Bolivia the end of May to begin meeting with the source of my Bolivia research, Ramiro Orias, whose association with La Red Participación y Justicia and other NGO's, has opened more doors to my life than I could have ever begun to imagine.
The political situation in Bolivia is complex to say the least and the sorts I have met with have been more than proof of that. Many times, I have gone into a phone booth, called a contact that I had picked up from elsewhere, said "Hola. Estás hablando con Carlos Konrad. Soy amigo de x. Estoy estudiando cómo se trata este tema de participación juvenil en el gobierno en términos del MAS o de la oposición." They typically respond, " Ya... ya ok. Ponte en taxi. Me esperes en esta esquina. Tengo jeans y camiseta roja. Ya. Ciao"
Despite the fact that I was foreign to La Paz, it never felt strange waiting in a dodgy part of town for a kid I had heard liked to burn down bars and cantinas to prevent middle school kids from starting to drink at a young age. Not exactly systemic, I thought. But, this is how the meetings went and it was great. He did not exactly seem like a terrorist. He seemed like you or me, except at 4,000 m of altitude with burned skin surrounded by poverty and immersed in a country without direction.
"What do you think of the President?" This was a constant point I made when I met with youth, professors and NGO's alike. Common consensus pointed to, "He's ok. But we're tired. We just want peace and stability. Death to the Yankees." I was never too flattered with the last bit, but such is life.
Two days before I was scheduled to fly to Lima and begin the long, but cheaper than flying, trek to Venezuela stopping in Quito and Bógota to meet with some folks Amnesty International had listed as threatened by political means for expression of belief, I was offered a job as translator and political consultant for an NGO in downtown La Paz working on reports for Washington with regards to Electoral Observation in Bolivia's most contested Referendums ever. I turned it down.
After a week of being stood up in Quito from meeting after meeting and regretting leaving that opportunity in La Paz in the first place, I called Ramiro. "Do you still need someone?" "Yes." "Ok, I'll see you in five days. Ciao"
And I was off. Eighty hours later in a bus, twenty of which spent with Luis Alberto Lira, Davidson in Peru's lifetime friend watching the Copa Europa final, I was back in La Paz at the same hostel and sadly enough some tourists had learned the hard way as to how La Paz can suck you in and never let you leave.
My trip went from 8 weeks as was the original plan to now pushing 12. I work 9-10 hour days, depending, and have reopened, deepened, and expanded my contacts with youth movements across Bolivia - I would even hate to say that I have lost the rest from across the continent (Facebook works brilliantly). I have recently moved into an apartment (90 USD a month), whose shower I shock myself with every morning. The internship that I thought would pay none is paying me a substantial amount, and it would appear that I will be getting some travel benefits, and may even get published. I even have my own extension.
In other news, not many Americans travel to Bolivia so I have acquired the hybridized vocabulary of a Brit and an Aussie with words like "Cheers," "Mate," "Bird," and "Chat" in everyday conversation.
¡¡Viva la Evocracia!!