Depositing myself (or rather being deposited by God’s will) in Bolivia has certainly been interesting. It has been a place to use the knowledge I acquired in university. It’s been a place to make crazy leaps of faith and to question the validity of cultural stereotypes and opinions held by those in North America. It’s been an opportunity to share the goodness of Bolivian culture with those at home and to ask friends and family to begin to see the world differently. But it’s also been a time for me to be more silent when sharing my opinions and to realise that there are so many layers of nuance in how each person lives their life. Because at the core, people in Bolivia may share a “culture”, but the ways in which each person embodies those broad and often academic ideas is personal. My host mom cooks with many vegetables, while many Bolivians don’t. The family of a friend eats a much more typical diet, with a focus on bread and meat. These individual cultural expressions are as varied as each personality.

Leafy greens in Bolivia. MCC photo/Matt Sawatzky

I’ve also become more aware that I should be admitting my lack of knowledge more often. I don’t know exactly why a certain person might make the choice they did. It may be cultural, but it might be the result of a difficult day, mental health struggles, or almost anything else. The more I live within a different culture, the more I see how stereotypes are formed. They spring forth from assumptions and a lack of a bird’s eye, telepathic view. They don’t care to get to know the individual. To some extent, anthropology also relies on these generalisations while trying to fight against them. Contemporary anthropologists tend to focus their work on small, specific populations in order to reduce the margin of generalisation, and they employ other methods designed to provide an accurate representation of the people group.

One thing I do know is that the Bolivians I have met have, for the most part, been incredible people. Like us, they laugh and tell jokes. They love and care for their family and friends. They chose to stay up late or go to bed early, depending on their day, the weather, and their preferences. They worry, cry, fight, and embody all the same human characteristics God saw fit to bestow on His creation. They teach me humility and how to listen in order to learn. They also teach me how to make empanadas and arepas and countless other things.

Pastries in Bolivia. MCC Photo/Matt Sawatzky.

​In response to the conflicts around the world, and as people face stress, deadlines, or hard memories, I am trying to remember to speak more kindly and to be ready to offer my support rather than stereotypes. And to give an extra measure of patience to that new acquaintance who is suddenly making you question what you thought you knew about them. Perhaps they need it just as much as you do.


Clare Maier studied anthropology and is working with MCC partners Talita Cumi and El Faro in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, as part of MCC’s SALT program.