"Then they told us that Sunday morning we would be moving to a new hotel so we packed our things and loaded them on buses. Then we had a meeting and they said we were leaving immediately to get on a plane to Peru. Some volunteers came from the other side of the country and didn’t even know we were leaving the country until they were already on the plane to Cochabamba. We evacuated over the course of two days, on two military C130 planes. At this point, we were all very sad to be leaving Bolivia, but hopeful that we might return. From there on out, the chronology of everything is very hard for me to distinguish. A day or so later, we heard that the PC Bolivia program was being closed. I heard there was to be more news on aid given to Bolivia, but I still haven’t been able to find anything about this. We have been stationed outside of Lima for over a week now, trying to figure out what’s going on. About ¾ of the volunteers decided to end their service and ¼ decided to transfer to a new country."
Peace Corps Volunteer You must be the change writes: Me voy. Que lastima, pero adios...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Me voy. Que lastima, pero adios...
Caption: A view from the Peace Corps office in Cochabomba.
[Excerpt]
So, as you read in my last post, we were evacuated from Bolivia. It was kind of crazy; we got a call the night of the 12th saying that we were on consolidation again and that we had to go to our regional cities the next morning. Since we had just come back from a consolidation that turned out to be nothing, I didn’t take it too seriously, but was nervous. I packed somewhat, wrote a few very quick goodbye notes in case, and left Kauri with a friend. I told a couple of people what was going on, but promised that I would be back. The mood was somber but, appropriately, we stuck with the Bolivian “This isn’t goodbye, just see you later. I’ll be back.” I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t have the heart to say goodbye to my friends, to my women’s group. I think I needed to believe that I was coming back, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach. I’m very bad at good-byes and the more emotional I feel about leaving someone or something, the more quickly I try to leave and the less I try to say. I feel a great deal of guilt about this because I allowed my anxiety to let me pull away from the community very quickly. What I wouldn’t give for one more day just to tell people how much I loved them. Anyway…
So we went to Cochabamba and didn’t hear much over the weekend except that things weren’t good. But we get that a lot in Bolivia, so I wasn’t stressing too much about it. Then they told us that Sunday morning we would be moving to a new hotel so we packed our things and loaded them on buses. Then we had a meeting and they said we were leaving immediately to get on a plane to Peru. Some volunteers came from the other side of the country and didn’t even know we were leaving the country until they were already on the plane to Cochabamba. We evacuated over the course of two days, on two military C130 planes. At this point, we were all very sad to be leaving Bolivia, but hopeful that we might return. From there on out, the chronology of everything is very hard for me to distinguish. A day or so later, we heard that the PC Bolivia program was being closed. I heard there was to be more news on aid given to Bolivia, but I still haven’t been able to find anything about this. We have been stationed outside of Lima for over a week now, trying to figure out what’s going on. About ¾ of the volunteers decided to end their service and ¼ decided to transfer to a new country.
At first I really wanted to go to Honduras, but it seems like the program might not be the best fit for me. I’ve been assigned to Ecuador and I am really excited because it sounds like the APCD found something that fits well with my experience and interests. It will be tough being so close to Bolivia, but I am determined to throw myself into my work and community every bit as much as I did in Machaca.
Thus, I close the Bolivia chapter of my life with nothing but love, fond memories, and many lessons learned and hope to have the courage to open the next chapter on the same note. Though I carry on, I will never leave the Altiplano in my heart, as it will forever be a part of me. Viva Bolivia! Viva Oruro! Viva Machacamarca! Jallalla!
