Editor’s Note: Regular Matador contributor Hal Amen is embarking on a year-long volunteer journey in South America. He’ll be sending in regular dispatches; this is the first in his series.

Photo: The Pocket

The toddler cradled in his mother’s arms on a cold Shanghai street corner, pink hand outstretched. The family overflowing from its Chalco slum home on the fringes of Mexico City. Emaciated children, kindergarten-aged, hawking cheap souvenirs in front of Angkor Wat.

Common tableau to the seasoned traveler.

Photo: asalexander

We’ve seen so much. We’ve felt the steady accumulation of shock, sympathy, outrage, and intimacy such scenes engender. We’ve looked into others’ lives and tried to fathom the kind of help they need.

And then we reach the point where we’re ready to act, to engage. We’re ready to give back.

I’ve been at that point for a year now. But in grappling with how to respond to the volunteer impulse, I’ve come to realize that feeling compassion and doing something about it are two very different things.

It takes a flexible work schedule and some measure of financial stability, not to mention a fair bit of courage and determination.

And even when these factors align, there’s still the matter of selecting a compatible organization, one that works where and how you want to work. For me, that task was the most difficult.

Location

I’ve lived and traveled in Asia and witnessed stark poverty on that continent. Perennial stories of African impoverishment have nearly defined what it means to volunteer.

But need is non-geographical.

Therefore, you’re able to throw some personal preference into the mix. In my case, the desires to learn Spanish and visit South America directed my attention to that part of the world. Idle online browsing further narrowed the destination spectrum to three contenders: Bolivia, Chile, and Argentina.

Photo: NeilsPhotography

From the beginning, I knew Bolivia would likely win, being by far the poorest. But researching opportunities elsewhere allowed me to learn by comparison, develop a plan B, and ultimately decide that I’d like to participate in two projects over the course of a year instead of one.

Vocation

I’m not good with kids, nor am I a capable teacher. This automatically cut my options in half.

Photo: kiki-bolivien

Instead, I was most interested in community organizing, economic development, and sustainable practices. I have no formal background in these areas, so finding an organization open to providing some training was essential.

Such restrictive parameters, strangely enough, made my hunt easier. Searching by process of elimination proved more efficient than trying to track down exactly what I wanted.

Over time, I accumulated a shortlist of webpage bookmarks for programs that met the majority of my criteria. Now all I had to ask was, “Can I afford this?”

Cost

Frustratingly, the answer was often “no.” No, I can’t cough up $1,000 dollars a week to conduct glacier research in Patagonia or staff a homeless shelter in Chile, no matter how many perks are included.

The more of these opulent price tags I found, the more I wondered, “How could it cost so much to give back?”

If you find yourself asking this question, chances are you’re paying a middleman—a most decidedly for-profit company—to place you with the actual non-profit with which you’ll be volunteering.

They do all the legwork for you: assess your skills, identify a suitable organization, arrange local accommodation, and provide orientation resources and language lessons. This assistance isn’t cheap, even if your placement company is honest and knows what it’s doing.

Obviously, then, if you can arrange something directly with the group you want to work with, costs plummet substantially. But this is much harder to accomplish armed only with Google; likewise, small-scale charities may not have the time or manpower to help you acquire everything you need on the ground.

So what does this mean? In my experience, the equation goes like this: more research = happier (and cheaper) results. If you invest sincere effort in the search process, the right opportunity will present itself.

Resources

Sites like Idealist, Volunteer Abroad*, and other volunteerism search engines are good places to start.

(*tip: Search by country and examine the end of the list first. The smaller, cheaper operations get pushed to the back of the returns.)

But nothing compares with testimonials from people like you who’ve been there, done that. Post a query here on Matador and to the Lonely Planet Thorn Tree Forum, and check out Transitions Abroad to see what people are saying about the organizations on your shortlist.

Led by the resources above, I came in contact with Sustainable Bolivia, a Cochabamba-based nonprofit that both runs its own programs and places volunteers with local partner groups.

I’ll pay only for my housing and volunteer my time with an institute called Energetica in the area of renewable energy development. I start in two weeks.

While in many ways I have no idea what to expect, I feel confident that I’ve done my homework and uncovered the right position for me.

Now all that’s left is to go and see.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION: Did you know that more than 350 organizations from 35 countries are Matador members? Check out their profiles–and their volunteer needs–here.

All photos courtesy of the author.

It wasn’t long ago that some of these boys had never seen a kite or felt the warmth of a loving adult. But at Nepal Orphans Home (NOH), founder Michael Hess created an environment where 121 children thrive, attending school and karate classes and taking weekend jaunts to the park.

Nepal Orphans’ Home and sister program, Volunteer Nepal, is the fruit of Hess’ labor of love. In March 2005, the carpenter found a disheveled house where children lived in squalor. The well refused to work, the toilet didn’t function, and the family who ran the “orphanage” had abandoned its charge.

“When I was brought to the orphanage in such disrepair…I immediately felt humbled…” Hess writes. “It was easy to improve upon their situation; it simply took money and time for wounds to heal.”

Months later, Hess acquired a building in the city, brought his 12 kids home, and began going by “Papa.”

He looks the part. His eyes gleam, cradled in pockets of wrinkles. When he takes off his baseball cap, fine, silvery hair sweeps across his head.

I notice he wears the same outfit for the third time that week. It reminds me of the rumor I heard that Hess turned down a donated refrigerator for himself because the children didn’t have one of their own.

From dawn to dusk, the founder works steadily fielding volunteer applications, tending to scraped knees, sewing rogue buttons.

The children, he says, “bring me joy, purpose and hope for a better tomorrow.”

In three years NOH has soared beyond expectations. The organization boasts three buildings in Kathmandu and a fourth in the Lahami area, each running at capacity.

In 2008, NOH began work with Social Action Welfare Nepal, whose goal is to end the Kamlari [child labor] system in Nepal’s Dang region. The child labor practice dates back to the 1960s, when parents had little choice but to sell their daughters into labor.

This indentured servitude still happens today. So a third Papa’s House, “Lawajuni,” rescues, houses, and educates these former Cinderellas.

“Knowing how many more [Kamlaris] we haven’t saved is always on my mind,” comments Hess. “Finding the funds to continue to house and educate those girls will be a formidable challenge.”

Volunteers

Hess estimates that 50% of NOH’s 2008 operating costs were generated by volunteer fees. Endorsed by Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea website, the non profit’s volunteer program has taken flight, quadrupling in the last year.

Thanks to Papa, children and volunteers remain equally happy. After several days of language lessons and sightseeing around Kathmandu, volunteers are free to spend their days as they see fit.

One might rise with the children to braid the girls’ hair before school, or teach English to recent arrivals when their tutor doesn’t come. The work could be as simple as what Veronica Acuna provided: a hand to hold on the playground.

Outside of Kathmandu, the organization will plug you into the pulse of Nepal. For example, volunteers Sandra Krasa and Martin Cassar trekked into what Hess describes as “a lost little village in the shadow of the magnificent and foreboding Himalayas.” The American and the Englishman were the first farangs (white people) the village had ever seen.

My experiences also ventured far off the beaten path, trekking with one of Hess’s girls to her village. This wasn’t Apple Pie Trail or Everest Base Camp—I did not spot another farang the whole time I walked, or once I arrived in the village, Gumda, 13 hours after setting out. Mules, loaded-down Nepalese and my 16 year old guide were my only companions.

At home with Binu, I experienced life just as she did. I slept in a short, mattress-less bed. Ate in a smoky, darkened room. Cut tinva with her mother in the fields. Mornings graced me with clear views of snowy Everest.

There were no houses built or turtles released—it wasn’t traditional volunteering. But one could say that I gave my time and money to immerse myself in another culture. To notice that Nepali village girls’ nose rings sat lower than the one I used to have. To convince a Didi that I admired her walnut color as much as she admired my peach.

Hess suggests that people seeking volunteer work should bring “compassion, the ability to observe and listen to others, openness to learning from the people of Nepal, and a willingness to live in the same environment, in the same manner as the people they are serving. They should bring a desire to commit and follow through with the commitment.”

Volunteers or not, civil unrest and deplorable conditions for Nepali children may never completely end. It is encouraging, though, to know that one man and many volunteers inch toward a new country. For now, like the boys on the rooftop, Hess and crew will cut down one kite at a time.

More information on Volunteer Nepal

More information on Nepal Orphans Home

Find out more about kamlaris in Nepal (YouTube video)

Community Connection:

Inspired by Michael Hess’s project? Read Roll Your Own Peace Corps for more on making the most of your overseas volunteer experience.

All photos by the author.

In the small city of Las Piedras on the outskirts of Montevideo, El Abrojo focuses on helping children who work and live on the streets.

The name of the NGO is often believed to be a shortened version of the Spanish phrase, “Abre Los Ojos,” meaning to open one’s eyes. But El Abrojo is actually named after a plant, the abrojo. In Bolivia, Brasil, Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chile the spiny abrojo grows in the countryside.

People who walk through terrain where the abrojo grows often get abrojo spines stuck on their clothing. The organization appropriated the image, but recast it with a positive spin: El Abrojo seeks to help society by joining with the people on their road to building a more just and stable community.

At the Las Piedras location, children range from six to 15 years old and have not been attending traditional school for one of two reasons:

• 1. Their families are unable to generate enough income and are forced to send their kids to work on the streets.
• 2. The child was neglected or abused and left the family.

El Abrojo’s aim is to help the kids return to traditional schooling after they have received individual attention from educational and health professionals, as well as help families get back together and become self-sufficient.

I visited El Abrojo just before Christmas to celebrate the year-end festival with them. The smiles and laughter of the kids were visible. After spending some time with this project, it was clear that their goals are being accomplished.

If you are ever in Uruguay and would like to spend time with these children, volunteer opportunities can be arranged by calling the organization at (598-2) 903 0144 or e-mailing elabrojo@elabrojo.org.uy.

Photo by ATIS547

So what is the Carrot Project?

It’s a website that helps people figure out which business are doing the best things for the world, and it encourages people to support those businesses by buying stuff from them as opposed to their less socially and environmentally responsible competitors.

How’d you get this idea?

I wanted to consume purposefully. I wanted to know what businesses were like, which ones did nice things, and which ones did only greedy things. I looked online to try to find out, but it’s a mess out there – disputed info, disagreements, bad info, info only from companies, info from only angry over-the-top haters.

I figured if I wanted something that helped me compare brands on their relative social and environmental responsibility, then there were probably some other people that’d want it, too.

Plus, I was working on a boat, taking tourists to a reef 100 kilometers east of the outer barrier, and I was on a 2 to 6 AM watch with an old hippie/candle entrepreneur. He told me that he’d use the tool, so I was like, “Sweet, I found my market segment.”

Photo by Burns!

What year was this?

Late 2004.

What were you doing over there?

I was a deckhand on Big Mama [his uncle's tourist boat], scrubbing bathrooms and teaching snorkeling.

When did the idea of the Carrot Project become a real possibility?

The idea started to be a possibility in early 2007. At that point, I’d been in China for a couple years already. A friend of mine told me about a fellowship. Friends of his were looking to pay someone to spend two years studying and writing about social enterprises throughout the world, and he asked if I was interested. Of course, I was. So I went to meet him for dinner to talk about it, and he started interviewing me, which I did not expect.

Eventually, he asked what my “long term orientation” was. I told him I was excited about the idea of harnessing the greed in capitalism to do good, sustainable business. I wanted to see businesses make more money as they made the world a better place. He asked if I had any business ideas of my own. I told him about what I was calling, at the time, choice.com. He asked me why I wasn’t doing it.

I said that I was young and inexperienced and pretty much knew nothing about anything. He said, “So what?” and then told me he had decided not to help me get the fellowship, but instead to help me start the business.

Photo by Rafael Mejia Is Alive

What were you doing at the time?

I was working for a start-up in online language learning in Beijing.

Is Beijing a good place for a young social entrepreneur to be?

I don’t have much to compare it to, but yeah. There are lots of smart, young, adventurous people there to talk ideas with, and people are from all over, so the connections are super diverse. And the fact that BJ is the philanthropic capital of a huge developing country means that it attracts some solid non-profity people, too, who are, in my opinion, essential to social enterprise.

So when do you expect to turn a profit?

Not for a while. The focus now is to deliver something valuable to our users – valuable brand comparisons that are trustworthy, humble, and as accurate as possible. Once we have that, then we can focus on making money. But we’ll be scraping for a while, no question.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

Learn more about The Carrot Project by visiting the company’s profile. Learn more about being a thoughtful, engaged consumer here.

My name is Pete Morrow, but most people just called me Pedro by the end of my two months in Peru. I couldn’t tell you why I chose Peru over all the other projects offered, but to be honest, I don’t think it gets much better than South America.

I am originally from Vermont. I did some volunteer work in high school, but always had an interest in volunteering abroad. That said, after high school I found that college wasn’t an immediate interest of mine, but travel definitely was.

By some random fluke of luck, Projects Abroad came to my school senior year and offered a good opportunity to go somewhere and do something cool. I won’t lie, it did put a dent in my financial status…but you will soon realize it’s worth it when you get picked up from the airport with a friendly smile.

After you’ve had a five or six hour layover in Lima airport, tried sleeping on every bench, and realized that no one is speaking English anymore, you may be freaking out a little bit. Knowing that somebody from Projects Abroad is waiting to pick you up in Cusco is a relief.

Typical market in Cusco. Photo: Szeke.

Peru is pretty sweet for a couple reasons… For one, the daily weather forecast is the same every day, sunny with blue skies and a high probability of sunburn. You’re guaranteed to see a least five street festivals a week. Even if you can’t dance remotely well, the discotecas in Cuzco will always welcome you in for a good time on weekends.

I was in Peru for a total of two months, living and working in a town named Calca. It became my home in every sense of the word. I had family, food, neighbors, friends, cousins, fiestas, and, in my case, even an adoptive dog named Poncho.

Poncho was from Cusco originally, but found his new home in Calca when he followed my friend Carrie and I onto the bus and rode with us an hour and a half to his new home with la familia Estrada. I wouldn’t recommend adopting stray dogs, and to be honest, it wasn’t really in our control, but it did make for a good topic of conversation.

By the end of two months I had a complete routine: Go to work, then meet Carrie and Poncho to go to our regulars…the Internet café, visit the juice bar lady, and later hit up the pastry shop.

Machu Picchu. Photo: Szeke.

I was working as a care program volunteer and a sports program volunteer for the full two months. Five days of the week I got to work with twenty-five of the cutest kindergarten kids I’ve ever seen as a part of the Care Program.

I’ll admit, I had no idea what I was doing on the first day of class. I thought, how am I supposed to deal with a class full of five year olds, and do it all in Spanish?

The answer was to be a kid again, let down all guards, and remember how to play.

My first week I helped the kids cut things out, paint, peeled fruits for them at snack, and became a human jungle gym during recess. Later, I got more comfortable and involved by teaching a weekly animal in English, and making picture books for the class.

You gain more from the experience as you get more involved with the work, and ultimately it affects the class much more than if you just sit and aide the teacher in everyday things. I wanted to bring new fresh ideas to the table, things that made learning unique.

Also, it became clear that a sense of humor is probably a good thing to keep in your back pocket, as a class full of five year olds will undoubtedly laugh at any mistake you make.

Around noon, I’d walk half the class home. One student, Darwin, would insist that his house was on my route home. (It wasn’t: One weekend I passed by a house with a familiar face in the door, Darwin, on the complete other side of town from where I was living.)

After walking ten to fifteen kids home, I had just enough time for lunch and a siesta before I went and helped run after-school sports practices.

Basketball would meet three times a week, and soccer twice a week. Most of the kids doing after-school sports were around my age.

Working alongside the coach, I got to have a whistle and run drills. I’ve never been handed a whistle and a large group of kids, but it’s pretty awesome. Being a coach for kids that are only a few years younger than you is a lot like having a pick up game after school. It is definitely a good way to make friends if nothing else.

As a Projects Abroad alumni, bottom line, I think volunteering abroad is cool beans. And if it’s your first time doing this sort of thing, Projects Abroad is a solid group to do it through. Everyone is really nice, and if you have any problems they will be there to try and straighten things out for you.

Even if you don’t go to Peru, I’m sure that any of the other places they offer would provide an equally great experience abroad.

Photos courtesy of the author.

Imagine children learning to ‘read’ by looking at letters and words written on a chalkboard – if they have the luxury of attending school at all.

Imagine having to teach a child how to ‘work’ a book – how to turn the pages, one by one, to reveal the rest of the story, the next picture.

The place is rural Laos, where most of the seven million Laotians live. Villages are often remote, accessible by long and grueling bus-rides over rough dirt tracks, and then only during the dry season. Some are accessible only by slow river-boat, loaded to the gunwales with people and cargo. Many are accessible only on foot.

Life in these villages is virtually unchanged from what it was 50 or even 100 years ago. And it is a life without books.

Now imagine an organization dedicated to bringing books to the people of Laos, and in particular to the children in these small, remote villages. An organization that employs enthusiastic young Laotians as writers and artists, and publishes colourful books that make it fun and easy for Lao people to learn to read.

The organization is Big Brother Mouse. It was founded by Sasha Alyson – an American originally from Boston — and it is now owned by Khamla Panyasouk, a Laotian who works with Sasha to keep the presses running.

Big Brother Mouse started in March 2006 with the publication of five books. By the time we visited their outlets in Vientienne and Luang Prabang in November 2008, Big Brother Mouse had published almost 60 books.

The books are mostly in Lao, although some are in Lao and Hmong, and some are in Lao and English. Some are translations of old favourites like Aesop’s Fables, Dr. Dolittle, and The Wizard of Oz.

Big Brother Mouse has also published books on the kinds of subjects children love – dinosaurs, animals of Laos, Africa and Australia, and the wonders of the world. But most of the books are distinctly Lao: The Proverbs of Laos, New Improved Buffalo!, The Monk and the Trees, and A Very Good Day.

Big Brother Mouse has also started to publish some pocket-sized books that it hopes will be cheap enough, at around 50 cents each, that villagers will be able to buy them.

In addition to books for kids, Big Brother Mouse has published books in Lao for more experienced readers, such as Sherlock Holmes and The Diary of Anne Frank. And it has published some books on important subjects such as tooth decay, and how to look after a baby. It is currently working on a book about women’s health, including health in pregnancy.

The primary objective of Big Brother Mouse is to publish books. But its secondary objective is just as important: to experiment with different ideas for getting books out to rural and remote communities.

They have had considerable success with book parties. These are usually held in local schools. Big Brother Mouse staffers take enough books to the village to ensure that every child will be able to leave with a book of his or her choice.

The teacher is given a ’swap box’ so that the kids can trade books with one another, giving them all a chance to read more. When Big Brother Mouse staffers have gone back to these schools they have found that the boxes, and the books, are still in use.

Another method Big Brother Mouse uses to distribute books is a system of junior librarians. Junior librarians may be young or old – what matters is that they love books and are willing to take responsibility for them. Their house becomes a library, where community members can go to borrow a book. The junior librarians are given 20 to 30 books to start.

From time to time Big Brother Mouse sponsors get-togethers for the junior librarians so they can talk about how they are doing and discuss any problems. For many, attending these get-togethers may be the first time they have been out of their communities. It represents both a way of rewarding and encouraging their participation in the project, and a tremendous opportunity for learning and community development.

When we visited Big Brother Mouse we met Siphone, a young writer. He remembers when he saw his first book, as a child in his village, and the impact that it had on him. He knows, first-hand, how a book can change a child’s life. He refers to Sasha and Khamla as his ‘big brothers’ – men who have helped him along his path – and his love for and admiration of them is clearly evident.

Big Brother Mouse is funded almost entirely by donations. It receives no money from the Laotian government. It does sell a few books to Laotians, and some tourists buy books to give to schools or to children they meet on their travels.

If you would like to find out more about Big Brother Mouse or make a donation, visit BigBrotherMouse.com

Better yet, make your next trip a trip to Laos, and visit Big Brother Mouse in Vientienne and Luang Prabang. Laos is a wonderful country to visit: an interesting culture, historic cities, unspoiled natural landscapes, friendly people and fabulous food. Buy some books and take them to a village, give them to children you meet.

Whether you go to Laos in person, or just visit the Big Brother Mouse website, you can give Laotian children the chance of a better future; you can give them books.

Community Connection

Headed to Laos? Matador Trips has several guides to the country’s hidden gems, including this article: A Unique Journey into the Heart of Northern Laos.