Several years ago, I spent two years living in a rural village in the Dominican Republic as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Immersed in a different culture, language, and way of life vastly different from my privileged upbringing, I experienced immense personal growth and gained a perspective that informed my path in public health and medicine. Now in my 4th year of medical school, I had the opportunity to spend a month living in Tarija, Bolivia through Child Family Health International, rotating in clinics and hospitals, improving my Spanish language skills, and immersing once again in a vibrant culture and community. While these two experiences were different in many ways, what ultimately remains etched into my mind and my heart remains the same - the people I met and the relationships I built.
I lived in a 3 generation household consisting of my host mom, her son (host brother) , and her 6-year-old grandson. My host mom does it all. She works as a dentist, is the chef of the household (cooking not only for her family but also for her fiance and his daughter), attends to her plants, and keeps everything in order. The more time I spent with her, discussing everything from the weather to cooking to U.S. and Bolivian politics, the more it felt like a genuine friendship, similar to that which I have with my own mom. In addition, we realized that we both have a second stomach for sweets, which came in handy when we went to dinner and could back each other up on wanting to order dessert. It also made teaching her how to bake tres leches (my host brother’s favorite cake) a no-brainer. It lasted less than 2 days!
My host mom created the sturdy, comfortable envrionment that made me feel like I had a home away from home. She had a genuine curiosity to get to know me as well as teach me about the aspects of her life and Bolivian culture that she loves and appreciates. It was her delicious, traditional meals that kept me energized during my month there (well that and the coffee I enjoyed multiple times a day). Some of my favorite memories in Tarija were the times we spent in the kitchen/dining room, preparing food, eating together, or talking over tea and snacks. The previous student was right when she said that our host “is the best host mother!”
Then there was my host brother, who is around my age. When he’s not taking care of his son, working as a dentist, or taking online courses to become a professor, he runs with a local running club. During the first two weeks as I was preparing my residency application, we’d sit together at the living room table after dinner, doing our respective work. The companionship during this somewhat stressful time was unexpected and quite calming. More unexpected, however, was when he invited me to sing-up for a 5k race that he and his running club were participating in. I ran cross-coutry and track in college (over 10 years ago), and it had been a hot minute since I participated in any competition. But as soon as we arrived in the early morning, doing warm-up experciese together, I had the familiar nervous excitement that always comes with racing competitions. After the race was over (I came second in my age group with the prize of a botte of wine made in Tarija!), we joined the rest of the running club members for a celebratory brunch. The following week we ran in another, more low-key 5k, and afterward I chatted with some of the same running club members as the week prior. They tried unsuccessfuly to get me to join the triathlon the following week. Though brief, I felt I was part of this energetic and supportive community.
The day before leaving Tarija, my host brother brother messaged me: “You’re not leaving yet, and I’m already missing you ?.” This sentiment alone describes what I find most valuable about my experience: the ability to connect with people, to compartir (share) parts of your lives, even if briefly, in a way that leaves a positive mark.
