Traveling is an immersive act of learning. Suddenly, as we struggle to find a grocery store, get on the right bus or ask where the bathroom is in a new language, the mass of knowledge that lets us operate so easily in our hometowns becomes clear – because when we travel we often have to learn something new to accomplish even the most basic task. Maybe that's why learning is such an appealing theme for this month’s intrepid team, which set out to understand different ways of learning in La Paz, El Alto and beyond.
One of our writers this month decided to delve into the world of teaching indigenous languages in Bolivian schools – a requirement that gained steam with the Morales' government – and the challenges, and resistance, that schools face when trying to bring languages like Aymara into the classroom. Traveling up out of La Paz, through El Alto, across the altiplano and toward Lake Titicaca, we also tour the campus of one of Bolivia's indigenous universities, which brings together students from rural communities and teaches a curriculum designed to value and expand indigenous knowledge.
If knowledge is power, then the more we know the more powerful we become - and the more in control of our own destinies. That's the idea behind a program called Niñas Autoras de Su Vida, an alternative education project for girls who are at risk of dropping out of school. From teaching money management to a workshop where girls design a personal logo, the program strives to make learning a fun, and empowering, project.
This month's adventures also led to the Escuela de Adiestramiento Canina, high up on a hillside in the Obrajes neighborhood of La Paz, where police work daily with dogs, teaching them how to identify explosives and track down missing people. The dogs are enthusiastic pupils and valued companions whose finely tuned senses of hearing and smell allow them to do jobs well beyond human possibility.
Finally, one of our intrepid writers took it upon herself to explore the variety of things one can learn in La Paz through classes and workshops open to anyone. From yoga to crystal healing to tango, it was an at times uncoordinated venture into what the human body and mind are capable of at 12,000 feet above sea level.
Languages, ancient traditions, and the at times mysterious mini-bus signage system – every day can be an education in La Paz and El Alto. Looking out over Illimani's three snow-capped peaks, as cable car cabins pass silently overhead and pedestrians jockey around markets stalls, I feel certain that we are in one of the world's most spectacular classrooms.
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Meet Bolivia's four-pawed police force
The command rings out around a modest training centre in Obrajes and four police officers hastily stand to attention. Beside them, with their two front paws raised in a solemn salute, are their canine companions.
Our first four-pawed professional readies herself for the morning's opening drill. Under a shaggy mass of thick white fur is Memo, a veteran of the Centro de Adiestramiento Canino here in La Paz. Despite her imminent retirement in May, this sprightly Old English Sheepdog hasn't lost her agility in her twilight years. As she tears around the obstacle course with ease and precision, her experience is clear.
'It's very difficult to say goodbye to dogs like Memo who have served us for many years,' Major Walter Laguna tells me, 'Our dogs are a part of our family.'
As I look around the Major's office, this fond sentiment is echoed in the room's decor. The grey walls are brightened by portraits of the academy's star dogs - a diverse line-up of German Shepherds, Rottweilers and Labradors. But taking pride of place amongst the myriad of framed accolades stands the imposing black-and-white image of a young officer and his canine partner.
'Sergeant Villanuevo Sánchez Cerro was killed alongside his dog Thempes whilst alerting the rest of their squadron to an ambush set by Che Guevara's guerrilla insurgents,' Major Laguna tells me. 'They saved many lives that day. The event showed us just how important police dog work can be.' While the incident occurred almost 50 years ago in April 1967, it certainly lives on in the collective memory of the officers.
Since its creation in 1965, the Centro Nacional de Adiestramiento de Canes has provided invaluable support to Bolivia's police force. Here at this modest complex, perched on the edge of a cliff in Obrajes, you can find the country's most valuable four-legged professionals. Each of the 16 dogs at the centre have one infallible gift that sets them apart from their human counterparts: their keen sense of smell.
'Dogs can learn to recognise and remember over 10,000 different smells', Lieutenant Pabón tells me as he prepares an elaborate exercise for the dogs' morning training. Today's focus: explosives.
With the final touches in place, Lieutenant Pabón enthusiastically beckons me over to inspect the fake crime scene. Before me are five identical motorbikes, but, as I am shown in a theatrical demonstration, one of the bikes is rigged with 'explosives', while another is stocked with dog treats as an olfactory temptation.
First to take the test is Mike, a stocky chocolate Labrador. Mike’s permanent grin seems to stem from the constant stream of encouragement he receives from his equally cheerful handler, Officer Calamani. Determined and inquisitive, Mike inspects each motorbike with care, lingering at certain stops and often retracing his steps, as though aware of the responsibility of the task.
Then, satisfied with his decision, Mike lies down in front of the offending bike and watches Calamani expectantly. His handler approaches him slowly, with one hand hidden behind his back. Using his free hand to momentarily distract Mike, Calamani swiftly whips his hidden hand from around his back and drops a brand-new tennis ball in front of his dog.
'The activities are just like games for the dogs', Lieutenant Pabón tells me, watching me somewhat bemused as I fawn over the triumphant Mike. 'When they complete a task, they get their toy as a reward. That way they are always happy to work.'
This reward-based method of training is clearly effective, as each dog completes the exercise without putting a paw wrong. Even for Rocky, an excitable and easily distracted young German Shepherd, the promise of a new bone to chew is motivation enough to stay on task.
As each of the handlers break their stoic composure to lavish praise upon their dogs, the close bonds between the pairs are apparent. Flitting from duo to duo, I amass an extensive collection of personal stories from the proud dog handlers. Officer Usnato, who has been working with the same Golden Retriever for three years, happily recalls how his dog was declared national champion at an anti-explosives course in Cochabamba. Eager to tell me of the centre's successes, Lieutenant Pabón recounts how last year the dogs worked together to successfully find a missing 7 year old girl who had gotten lost in the woods. And not to be outdone by these grand achievements, Calamani draws me aside to show me how Mike can open his cage by himself.
Despite these great success stories, the centre has suffered some unfortunate setbacks in recent years. In 2012, it was based beside a river which flooded during a heavy storm, killing six dogs and damaging the complex beyond repair. As a result of this tragic flood, the team moved to their current location in Obrajes, which while adequate for now, lacks the open space that the dogs require.
But Major Laguna remains optimistic. 'This year the centre is celebrating its 50th birthday, and the local government has promised us a new complex near the Pura Pura forest, where we will have much more space for our training.' As the boisterous Rocky races around the obstacle course, in a caramel blur of fur and paws, I can't help but think this will be a much-deserved upgrade.
PHOTO: Nick Somers
Transforming what is simple, and searching for that which doesn’t want to be forgotten.
Where does a story begin? In a workshop on narrative literature taught by the writer Adolfo Cárdenas in 2012, the master told us that we only had to open our eyes and ears, because on every corner, and in every person or in every thing there is a story to be told. Perhaps the hardest part is just putting something down on paper. Cárdenas recommended we keep a notebook at our side to jot down ideas, and that later some would transform into plots – that’s where a story is born.
Our class began with 20 students. Six months later only four remained – a miscellaneous group. Alvaro Vásquez has a degree in international commerce and customs, and is devoted to reading and books. 'When I write something, it’s like stepping out of my regular life, and entering into another. It’s something like the secret worlds that children have.’ Another classmate, Daniela Murillo, was a high school student in 2012, and says this workshop helped her decide which subject to later study. She is now a literature student at the UMSA. 'Writing is a joy for me and once I began I couldn’t stop – it’s become one of the most important parts of my life.'
Writing stories may seems like a great idea to a lot of people, but many are shy and reluctant when it comes to sharing their ideas. My classmate Marisol Soliz began to write for herself as a teenager, but it took more than 25 years before she moved to publish or make her work public. 'At first I wrote only for myself. The hardest part began when I decided that those stories which were only mine, and were mingled with fiction, had to become understandable for other people.' Marisol is a sociologist, mother, wife and lover of painting - and great food.
In my case, the idea of telling stories had been floating around in my head for years, but before this workshop I didn’t know how to begin. One of the most important things was exploring every detail, transforming what is simple, and searching for that which doesn’t want to be forgotten or to disappear.
In the end, each story created is the result of situations that are real but exaggerated, memories consciously or unconsciously modified, and ideas that little by little connect with everything that came before, and that take form based on corrections or attempts to apply narrative techniques learned in the workshop.
After six months this final group of four had about 20 stories completed. Cardenas, after seeing all this hard work, made a proposal that surprised us: that we choose the best stories and publish a collection. Today, it seems publication is finally at hand, and 'Inquietudes resueltas’ ('Unresolved Curiosities') will be on bookshelves this month. It’s a project that required patience above all. We waited three years to publish this book and now that it is about to come out we are so pleased to share the result of a unique experience with a great teacher.
ILLUSTRATION: Marisol Soliz
Bolivian volunteers join a global social action movement for girls’ education.
Education is a universal human right, yet obstacles like poverty, sexual exploitation, child labor, cultural paradigms and geographic isolation often prevent girls from beginning or completing a formal education.
Global social action campaign and documentary film Girl Rising advocates the power of education, giving a voice to nine girls from developing countries: Cambodia, Haiti, Nepal, Ethiopia, India, Peru, Sierra Leone and Afghanistan.
“Look into my eyes,” says Amina from Afghanistan in Girl Rising, “Do you see it now? I am change.”
This documentary film has inspired people like Viviana Rodriguez, who is a Girl Rising Ambassador in Bolivia, to create education campaigns around the world. In 2013, Rodriguez created Niñas Autoras de Su Vida in La Paz, an alternative education project for girls ages 9-19 who are vulnerable and at risk of dropping out of school. The goal is
“to support girls who have been victims of human trafficking, domestic violence, rape, suffer from early pregnancy, or have been homeless,” she says, “leading them to drop out of school or never enroll.”
Although Rodriguez hopes to work with a wide range of girls in vulnerable situations, currently, Niñas Autoras de Su Vida works with girls from the Marcelina Children’s Home, a refuge for vulnerable children that belongs to the Alalay Foundation. From photography classes to workshops on graphic design and entrepreneurship, the girls in the Marcelina Children’s Home, receive an alternative education from Rodriguez and her team of volunteers on a weekly basis.
“Our dream is to transform an old school bus into a classroom with seats, a chalkboard and a library. In this way, we hope to reach girls from other communities as a mobile project,"" Rodriguez says.
In the future, Niñas Autoras de Su Vida aims to extends its reach to Quechua-speaking girls from Potosi, who are living on the streets in La Paz. These Potosinas can rarely speak Spanish and run a greater risk of becoming victims of sexual exploitation or human trafficking. In December, Rodríguez worked for the first time with a group of Potosinas in the city, organizing drawing and math workshops in different plazas throughout La Paz.
At present, however, the program works with volunteers such as Pamela Vargas Fuentes, a psychologist who leads group activities with the girls, from icebreakers to name games to exercises in imagination. “The group dynamic generates an environment that motivates learning and awareness of real issues,” Vargas said. “These girls have an amazing capacity to love and are open to learn, grow and improve.”
Another volunteer, graphic designer Vivian Tapia, hosts a “personal logo” workshop so that the girls “will create a visual element that reminds them to accept and love themselves, identifies their strengths and weaknesses and shows what makes them unique. “Like the best logos out there,” Tapia says, “these girls can also stand out and be different.” The workshop serves as a tool for self-awareness and acceptance, or a path to self-discovery.
Communications expert Blanca Gonzales also volunteers with Niñas Autoras de Su Vida, teaching practical financial skills and facilitating an interactive money-spending game. Gonzales divides the girls into three groups and hands each group 1,450 fake bolivianos.The girls must then choose whether to buy fake clothes, food, movies or cars that are available for purchase. After the shopping round, each group analyzes its spending habits, paying close attention to what the girls spent money on and to how much they saved.
According to Gonzales, “most of the girls are self-conscious enough to use money to cover their basic needs, education, and save for emergencies.” However, Rodriguez was “surprised to see some girls buy clothes and shoes instead of milk, water or food.”
By the end of the workshop, the girls are invited to think about personal finances and how they will make enough money to support themselves when they leave the Marcelina Children’s Home.
All of these skills contribute to what Niñas Autoras de Su Vida hopes to accomplish, which is to provide an alternative education for girls who are outsiders to the formal education system. Girls with traumas, for example, who have suffered from domestic violence, rape or early pregnancy and require individual and specialized attention. The goal is for these developing women to continue learning and overcome their past.
“Our team has largely grown through word of mouth and social media. Each volunteer brings a volunteer,” Rodriguez said. “Some of the girls in the group are enthusiastic about eventually becoming volunteers, too.” For them, the program is an opportunity to learn how to create a flexible curriculum and provide real-life skills to real girls in the city.
""They are not professors or pedagogues,” Rodriguez says, but that’s not a problem. “Each volunteer simply teaches the way they would have liked to be taught.""
To support the project and become a volunteeer, contact girlrisingbolivia@gmail.com or send a message to https://www.facebook.com/girlrisingbolivia
PHOTO: Alexandra Meléan A.
