Lonely Planet's Blogsherpa Program Produces Its First Photo Ebook

HOT OFF THE PRESS: Today (May 3rd, 2011) the Lonely Planet Blogsherpa group launched their first photo e-book.  AlpacaSuitcase is one of the 40 featured Lonely Planet bloggers.  The following is directly from the Lonely Planet website:

In late 2008, Lonely Planet launched its experimental ‘Blogs We Like’ program. We picked our favourite bloggers around the world and featured their content on the Lonely Planet website.

Since then, those bloggers have banded together to form a community of expertise, showcasing the best travel blogging has to offer. We are pleased to feature their ebook, Around the World with 40 Lonely Planet Bloggers, and to support them on their blogging journey. Here’s what Todd Wassel, the book’s project manager, has to say:

The concept is simple – put 40 experienced travel bloggers together, shake and see what pops out. The result is the first ever Lonely Planet Blogger Photo ebook, which explores our beautiful world from street level through the eyes of travel bloggers.

This eclectic group, whose tales range across voluntourism, family travel, expat life, long term backpacking and more, was born out of Lonely Planet’s effort to broaden its content. Lonely Planet wanted to shine a light on the very best travel writing and photography on the planet.

Around the World with 40 Lonely Planet Bloggers is the first book produced by Lonely Planet’s ‘Blogs We Like’ program and introduces readers to the world of professional travel blogging. Lonely Planet knows what it takes to produce amazing travel writing and photography, and these bloggers are producing up-to-date live content from around the world while still managing to travel.

We also know that the internet, like the world, is a big place and it can be difficult to sift through the thousands of journal type travel blogs out there. Lonely Planet has done the work for you. From adventure travel with The Planet D, to family travel with Alpaca Suitcase, to the life of an international conflict management specialist at Todd’s Wanderings, there is something for everyone.

The new ebook shares a collection of stunning photos and descriptions that captures the essence of travel. It walks the reader through almost 70 countries and 40 unique ways of experiencing the world. It lets you research your next destination from a variety of perspectives, depending on your own interests and needs.

I could go on and on describing the book, but it’s better to just dive into 88 pages of colour, excitement and passion for travel. So download the book now!

Don’t forget to visit the each author’s travel blog, and check out the other blogsherpa contributions in the ‘Blogs We Like’ section of each destination page.

Happy travels and see you on the road.


To go to the Lonely Planet Blogsherpa page where the book is offered click here.

The Evolution Of A Volunteer Decision



Spinning alpaca yarn at Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco

The decision to spend 6-8 months volunteering in South America was easy; deciding where and how to do it was more difficult.

Lots of volunteering organizations
My requirements for volunteering included being able to use my intermediate-level Spanish, to use my retail business consulting skills (if possible), to be part of the community that I help (if only for 6 months), and to have a sustainable impact.

Once I’d decided to volunteer in Peru, I searched the web and found various volunteer organizations and researched what they provided, what type of work was available and what costs were involved. I was happy to find that there were lots of organizations working in Peru but I was disappointed to learn that most of them required a fee of between $500-1,000 per week. I found dozens of these “voluntour” organizations, but felt that spending money to work for free didn’t feel right.

Muhammed Yunus and Microfinance
About the time that I started adding up the costs of “working for free,” I read Dr. Muhammad Yunus’ book “Banker to the Poor,” an inspiring memoir about how he created microfinance. I read about Dr. Yunus’ first experiment with $27 lent to a group of Bangladeshi women, a miniscule loan that started an industry.

As I read about Dr. Yunus’ ideas I thought about the money I might be spending at “voluntour” agencies and started to think about what that money could do if lent directly to those in need. In fact, even if they never paid the money back, I’d be no worse off than if I gave the money to a “voluntour” company. I envisioned buying a bunch of food carts for street vendors and setting them up with an initial supply of inventory.

The Idea of Sustainability
The more I thought about this, however, the more I thought about the potential obstacles – locating worthy candidates, getting ripped off, creating community jealousies and getting stonewalled by local bureaucrats -- to name a few. I was worried about sustainability and I wasn’t sure that giving away a bunch of push carts and food and then leaving after 6 months would be consistent with that. It seemed like I needed six months just to get the lay of the land and to avoid getting ripped off.

As I pondered this, I learned about the Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco, an NGO weaving cooperative run by an indigenous woman that helps nine communities in the Cusco area. They needed help with budgeting, grant requests and some financial analysis and I had made my connection with them without the benefit of a paid intermediary. (I was introduced through a Spanish Language school in Cusco). I met with the Director and I liked the idea that I’d be making an impact and that impact would continue to be felt after I left. During our meeting, she hired me and gave me a project to work on immediately.

From pondering a myriad of paid volunteer organizations to contemplating my own microfinance shop to supporting an established NGO weaving cooperative, my road to volunteering was not a straight line but one that worked out well for me.

Why We Left Suburbia

In late 2008 Congress passed what is commonly referred to as the Fiscal Stimulus Package. I haven’t read the act, but I believe that there is nothing in it that provides stimulus for the sagging spirit of the suburban American family.

Eight feet in the Andes: Lake Titicaca, Bolivia

There are swift and decisive actions in the Stimulus Package to reinvigorate a stale economy, but none to reinvigorate the day-in, day-out staleness of suburban life. There is plenty in the act to address the global financial crisis, but there’s nothing that addresses mid-life crisis. There are measures to get investors excited again about the American economy, but none to put more excitement in the lives of a suburban family from Marin County, California.

Just as the aforementioned legislation is geared to get the economy moving, our family decided to get moving…initially to Peru. Immediately following a family congress in April of 2008 we decided on the cornerstones of the first part of our Stimulus Package: volunteer, work and put down new “roots” in South America. We would later decide on the second half of this trip: a grand tour of the Mediterranean to trace the origins of western civilization.

Our principal goal was to find a sense of community in a completely foreign locale. We decided to try to find work and volunteer opportunities somewhere in the Peruvian Andes and have our two kids become proficient in Spanish. Since both kids are pretty good swimmers, we would also try to find them a swim team, to help build their language skills in a familiar environment and contribute further to a sense of community.

Certainly, the timing was right for an extended sabbatical. The economy hadn’t been this bad in decades and both my spouse and I work in cyclical industries (real estate and retail, respectively). With both of us professionally independent there was a good chance that we might not earn 6 months worth of income in the upcoming year. Some quick math showed us that continuing to toil in this manner left us financially worse off than renting out our house, volunteering and spending the next 12 months traveling the world.

This was easier said than done. Our strategy required renting out the house, home-schooling, or “road-schooling” the kids, finding a home for our dog, selling the car, canceling the cell phones and taking care of the myriad of details that go with an entrenched suburban life. We immediately launched into the planning phase and started ticking things off our list.

Although admittedly not the centerpiece of our Stimulus Package, we started to focus, like virtually every U.S. bank, on selling “troubled assets”. For example, we used Craig’s List to sell the lawnmower that hadn’t been used for 10 years, as well as the dust-covered wicker chairs that were purchased at a Williams-Sonoma sample sale 15 years ago. The government’s Stimulus Package was designed to utilize idle resources; the idea behind our Suburban Stimulus Package was to become more idle -- and less rushed -- in order to enjoy life.

This online journal will record how we made it happen and will document our progress.

Quilting Bee In The Andes

Weaving Contest at CTTC in Chinchero (note the man in the background dipping into a tub of chicha)

When I’d learned that my non-profit weaving cooperative was planning to host a weaving contest the first image in my mind was a bunch of ladies speed-weaving with backstrap looms, rushing to see who could weave a quality piece the fastest. I later learned that the contest wasn’t about speed; it was about quality and village involvement. Each of the villages we support had a few months to weave a manta (Andean blanket) and many, if not all, of the members of the community were to participate. Basically, we’re talking about an Andean quilting bee.

The contest was in Chinchero and hosted by the Centro De Textiles Traditionales de Cusco (CTTC). My wife, kids, sister-in-law and I walked into the compound to see Andean ladies and gentlemen decked out in their best traditional attire with gorgeous mantas draped all around. Almost all of the mantas were stitched-together squares, a sign that villagers had worked separately on their pieces and had sewn them together at the end. When the director saw me she motioned me over and asked the village ladies to make some room on the front row bench for me while my family watched from the back. A cup of chicha was brought over to me and we watched presentations from each village on what their manta represents and how it was made. Besides the host village of Chinchero, the CTTC supports the villages of Chahuaytire, Pitumarca, Patabamba, Accha Alta, Santa Cruz de Sallac, Mahuaypampa, Santo Tomas and Acopia and each of them had mantas on display.

Each presentation was done in Quechua dialect so I had some trouble deciphering what the ladies were saying. I was impressed with the fact that in addition to supporting these villages with aid, health care and providing a market for their textiles, CTTC was also grooming leaders who could speak up and address a crowd and be an advocate for their village.

After a few more speeches, the director got up and delivered the results, with various categories to ensure that each village won some kind of award. As each village picked up their award, pride was evident on their faces. Nilda the director spoke in Quechhua and Spanish and was a commanding presence on the makeshift podium. She is from the village of Chinchero herself and has been successful at drawing foreign financial aid and volunteers to keep the CTTC going. Perhaps one of the ladies presenting that day will be her successor.

Volleyball In The Sacred Valley

When I started my volunteer job in Cusco, Peru I was a bit tentative around the office. My Spanish was fairly good and I had the daily greetings down, but it wasn’t good enough to walk up to someone and “shoot the breeze” for any length of time. In other words, in Spanish I could say “Good morning,” “How are you?” and “How was your weekend?” but if the conversation got beyond that, I ran into trouble. As a result, I tended to keep my head down and do my work and only talk to someone when they talked to me. Over time this improved greatly but early on, it was a challenge. The biggest help in the first couple weeks was an office outing to play volleyball.

At the Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco (CTTC), my role was basically as a pro bono consultant and I worked on projects with the three senior-most people in the office. There were about 20 people in the office, most of them one-person departments working on things like answering the phone (really!), researching natural dyes, accounting, computer technology, shipping & receiving and repairing textiles with the 1950's-era Singer sewing machine.

We combined our teambuilding/volleyball outing with a visit to the El Senor de Huanca shrine to bless the center’s new SUV and an office picnic. The twenty of us, including my daughter, rolled out of Cusco in two minivans and towards the Sacred Valley. After the blessing ceremony and the picnic, we went to Laguna Huacarpay and drove around looking for a flat spot to set up the volleyball net. We drove by indigenous farmers threshing grain on the newly paved road. They didn’t seem to mind us driving right over the grain and perhaps we were unwitting participants in the process.

We found a nice flat spot next to Laguna Huacarpay, with a flat meadow bordered by reeds from the lake. The Andes loomed large behind us, just like the bleachers at a sporting event. In the lake, fisherman in ancient reed boats competed with pintails, coots, gulls and blackbirds for fish. A herd of sheep and goats grazed near our makeshift court.

While we played a half-dozen games in that beautiful setting, the personalities of my office mates began to emerge. The self-assured office manager was a complete klutz, the two men who worked in shipping & receiving wore soccer jerseys and were good athletes and very competitive. The taciturn accountant -- once she was outside the office -- was talkative, positive (“good shot”) and smiled a lot while playing. The camaraderie was fun and “high-fives” were exchanged after every shot.

On Monday in the office, I lingered about the workspace of the soccer players, asking them if they still play soccer and whether they were good enough to make the local professional team. I complimented the accountant on her game, joking that her vocal support on the court warranted MVP consideration. I teased the office manager that she was clearly the worst volleyball player I had ever seen. From then on, I began to know my office mates a little better and could always drop a volleyball anecdote into our conversation when my Spanish faltered.

Kids Volunteering In Cusco

Aside from getting drilled in Spanish five hours a day, doing their homeschooling/distance learning and swimming on the Cusco swim team, both our kids had regular volunteer jobs during our time in Cusco. After their Spanish class, both would walk through San Blas to their jobs at Colibri, a shelter for street kids and children of single-parents with no place to go in the afternoons. Many of the kids worked as shoe shine boys and some of the girls sold gum or woven finger puppets in the Plaza de Armas in order to supplement the family income.

Once our kids arrived each day, they were greeted by Senor Alcides, the director, and his assistant, along with a dozen young kids who come up to hug them and greet them. Our kids’ main role was to play Monopoly or card games with the kids, do art projects, help them with their homework (usually math or English) and play futbol with them. Many of the local Spanish language schools sent adult students over for one or two week stints, so during their three month tenure our 14- and 12-year old kids got to meet and work with people from Australia, Sweden, England, France, South Africa and other countries.

About a month after starting with Colibri, and hearing our kids complain about how tattered and beat up the board games and sporting equipment were, our family had the idea of trying to raise some money for the shelter. There were no basketballs, the monopoly game was missing a bunch of pieces and they were in desperate need of school supplies. The kids wrote up a proposal outlining what was needed and how much it would cost along with a description of the shelter and some photos and we thought about who to send it to. We decided they should send it to my group of neighborhood basketball-playing dads back home who hold a tournament each year and raise money for sports and youth-related causes. Within two days, the group responded and said they would be happy to donate $300 for sporting goods and school supplies.

Here is the body of the thank you letter they wrote:

We are writing to you guys to thank you for your generous donation of $300 dollars to the Colibri Organization, in Cusco, Peru.

Colibri is an after school program for kids when their parents are at work or they do not have parents. It is a police sponsored program designed to give kids a safe place to be off the street. We work at Colibri for two hours a day after Spanish class. When we go to Colibri, we help with homework and often take the kids up to a park five minutes away and play basketball, soccer and games with them. The kids are very smart and are very nice. Their ages range from 5 to 14.

Your donation of $300 to Colibri will be spent on new basketballs, soccer balls, notebooks, pencils, colored pencils, and food. The kids at Colibri don't have very much stuff and it’s really sad to see them playing basketball with a beat-up old soccer ball. We can assure you that your money will be spent on worth-while things. The kids at Colibri are very happy and very grateful.

Once we received the money, we went to El Molino, the discount shopper’s paradise in Cusco, and bought everything, taking care to record how much was spent on each item and giving a full accounting of the donated funds. The kids listed all the expenses in a spreadsheet and sent some photos back to the basketball dads’ group, showing them how their money was spent.

The kids’ time at Colibri was extremely rewarding and the biggest treat for us came whenever our family walked through the Plaza de Armas. Quite often while crossing the main square, we’d hear small children call out our kids’ names, come running over and give them hugs. Who says they weren’t getting compensated for their time?

Volunteering In Cusco: A Day At The Office

What’s it like to be a volunteer in Cusco, Peru?

A typical day starts with breakfast with the family and out the door by 8:30 am when Patty, the kids’ Spanish teacher arrives for their five hour lesson. I walk along the mortar-less Inca walls towards the Plaza de Armas and observe the day beginning in the ancient Incan capital. The women who work at the produce market push carts with large sacks of fresh fruits and vegetables, a woman in indigenous dress hangs handbags and blouses outside her store and down one alley, a man relieves himself against ancient stones.

I pass by a busload of tourists waiting to visit the famous Korikancha and as I approach my work, the Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco (CTTC), I say hello to the man who sells candy in front of the building and then I’m buzzed into the front entrance. There are about a dozen people who work in the main office which sits above the retail store and museum on Avenida El Sol, and I have to greet each one with a “Buenos dias” and a kiss on the cheek. My office is basically a picnic bench in a communal area that is frequently where indigenous women weave, crochet and spin yarn with their babies eyeing everything from the slings on their backs. The women are genial, speak a bit of Spanish and all smell like they’ve slept in a cornfield. Most of the mothers look like they are 15 years old and will drop everything and lift up their blouse to breastfeed when their babies start crying. Sometimes they let their infants crawl around on the dirty floor and I’ll occasionally be working when I feel a tug on my leg.

I boot up my laptop and inevitably have to re-start the wireless internet router which dangles precariously from a loose nail high on the wall. I’ll then make some manzanillo tea from the tea and coffee station outside the Director’s office. Since I typically leave by early afternoon each day, Jenny or Paula usually come by to tell me what I’ve missed the previous afternoon. My main project is to budget a large conference for weavers that the CTTC wants to host. Everything they want to plan is in a large spreadsheet on my laptop, and every time there is a change of plan, I have to make sure that it is reflected in the budget.

By mid-morning, I’ve done a little work and had a 5-10 minute chat with most of my co-workers and I go outside and walk around the corner to the bakery and buy a dozen warm onion rolls, fresh from the oven. I’ll lay them out in the communal area and they will quickly disappear.

Much of my work is impromptu projects that require financial analysis. Jenny will often come by with a request, like “Senor Jason, we have to ask for money and the foundation wants financial statements. Can you do this?” or “We need an insurance policy for our antique textile collection, but we have no idea how much it should be…can you help us?” The combination of my budgeting work for the weavers’ conference and requests like these always keep me busy.

By one or two O’clock my day is done and pack up my laptop, say my “hasta luegos” and start walking home to my apartment. Typically I will pick up some bread at the bakery or some causa (a delicious savory, potato pie filled with chicken and avocado) at a deli around the corner. As I walk into our apartment for our late lunch, Patty is wrapping up Spanish class with the kids. So goes another working day for a volunteer in Cusco.

Dream Patterns, Weave Memories: Nilda Callanaupa

As Published in Hand/Eye Magazine on November 14, 2009

Nilda Callanaupa and CTTC work to preserve Peruvian textile traditions

Nilda Callañaupa, founder and director of the Centro de Textiles Tradicionales de Cusco (CTTC), is a woman on a mission. As a young girl growing up in the 1960’s in her home village of Chinchero, most weaving was of inferior quality with synthetic fibers and DayGlo colors. Learning traditional weaving techniques from the elders and educating herself at university (the first person from her village to do so), she began to encourage, teach and support what she had learned. During the turbulent political crisis of the 1980’s and early 1990’s Nilda remained focused on her mission. In 1996 she founded CTTC in order to further promote and preserve traditional Andean weaving techniques.

Although Peru is in a period of relative economic and political stability, Nilda remembers the political crisis during the 1980’s when she was a university student. “You could feel it,” she says. “Friends you knew went missing; some were captured by the Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path), or were sent to jail. I saw it and knew it was happening and there was a general feeling of fear in the town.” Violence like this obviously impacts a community, both emotionally and economically; tourism in Peru suffered greatly during this time. “Because of Sendero Luminoso, there were not many tourists here in Cusco, so many young people went to Lima looking for greater opportunity. That affected us a lot. The production of textiles for everyday use did not change much…weavers were still weaving, but the production of textiles for tourists declined greatly.”

Shining Path leader Abimael Guzmán was captured in 1992 and the era of terrorism soon ended. In 1996 Nilda started CTTC: “It would not have been possible to start CTTC in the 1980’s. Many non-profits were leaving Peru and some foreign volunteers were killed, especially in Ayacucho. During this time there was no CTTC project but I was doing it anyway. I noticed that there was a lot of demand for high quality textiles…mainly by collectors. Many grandmothers lost their beautiful woven heirlooms, either by selling them to collectors or having them stolen. I wanted to expand this high-quality end of the market and also return to the traditional weaving techniques of the past.” With Shining Path subdued and tourists coming back to Cusco, Nilda was ready to exert a leadership role. “When we started the center in 1996, political turmoil was behind us, tourists were coming back and the market was ready for us. It all came together.”

Thanks in large part to CTTC, traditional Andean textiles are blossoming and youngsters aren’t moving to Lima anymore. Nilda acknowledges that income plays a part in this, but she also sees this as an expression of cultural identity. “Well, I’d say that part of the motivation for the younger generation was the financial opportunity, but for many people who had these traditional weaving skills, it was a way to show status in their community…something to be proud of…and it was good for their self-esteem.”

As Nilda looks into the future, she sees indigenous Andean textiles evolving. “At this stage, I am seeing more creation of new products that are more acceptable to world-wide markets. I’m talking about products that are more functional, like wall hangings, placemats, pillow covers, clothing and jackets.” CTTC will host the Encuentro de Tejedores de las Americas in October 2010, inviting weavers from all over the Americas to come to Cusco to share knowledge and experiences with one another. “It’s my dream. Most importantly, it’s an opportunity for the weavers to share with one another and to let them say what they have to say.”



For more information about CTTC, visit http://www.textilescusco.org/cttc/eng/Nilda’s book Weaving in the Peruvian Highlands: Dreaming Patterns, Weaving Memories (ISBN 978-1-59668-055-5) can be purchased at Amazon.com.

A New Beginning

The New Year is here and our family is at the midway point of our travels.

Our initial focus on South America was to have our kids learn Spanish, allow us a significant amount of time to volunteer and to gain a sense of community in a foreign locale…reasons detailed in this blog’s very first entry. The remainder of our travels will be in the Mediterranean, tracing the origins of Western Civilization, learning about Egyptian, Greek and Roman culture and crossing items off our collective “bucket list.” The two mismatched halves of this year-long family adventure could be summed up through our kids’ educational experience: a six month Spanish language course and a six month Western Civilization seminar.

In May of 2008 we made the decision to embark on this journey. We held a family meeting to reach a consensus on what, when, where and how we would spend our time. Three years earlier, from March 2005 through August 2005, we did a similar trip, traveling for six months through most of Central America and Spain. On that trip we just gave the kids their marching orders and went, learning a lot along the way about what we liked and disliked about long-term travel.

During our family consensus meeting, each person wrote down their top five answers for the following three categories: 1) destinations they’d most like to visit, 2) the biggest dislikes from our 2005 trip and 3) the things they wanted most out of the upcoming trip. In the first category there was a fair amount of consensus regarding top destinations: Italy got 4 votes, Peru and Greece got 3 votes and Egypt and Israel got 2 votes apiece. In the second category, there was unanimous agreement that our 2005 trip involved too much packing and unpacking and moving too quickly from place to place. This led perfectly into the third category, where we all wanted to volunteer and enjoy a sense of community and feel like we really got to know a place instead of moving frantically around the country. While it's true that both kids stated this preference, number one on both of their “want to do” lists was seeing lots of exotic animals: dolphins, caimans, tortoises, camels, condors, and sea lions, to name a few. It should be mentioned that in planning this trip, everything was “on the table” except for one thing: learning Spanish. My wife was adamant that for at least half the time, the kids would be immersed in the Spanish language. For her, this was a deal breaker.

While consensus was achieved, the kids had some interesting answers worth mentioning. My daughter’s number one destination was the Galapagos, effectively guaranteeing that we visit those islands. Both my son and daughter expressed a desire to avoid “dirty and disgusting” places and both listed the very same Nicaraguan town as an example. In 2005 we arrived in San Carlos after an all-night, bug-infested ferry passage on Lake Nicaragua. San Carlos is located where the lake feeds the San Juan River on its way to the Caribbean. The combination of the river, the lake and a proposed canal to the Pacific coast port town of San Juan Del Sur very nearly replaced the future Panama Canal as the sole trans-isthmus waterway between North and South America. Because the US Congress preferred Panama over Nicaragua, San Carlos has remained a filthy, unattractive town that has left a collective scar on our memory.

We’ve also used these preferences from our meeting as a guide along the way. We altered our Bolivia trip to include a last-minute visit to the Amazonian pampas because of the kids’ preference for seeing lots of animals. Looking forward, we’ve thrown in 10 day Kenya/Tanzania safari (“en route” to the Mediterranean) so that we can experience some East African wildlife, as well.

That’s the plan, how it came about and now we’re halfway through it: Half a year volunteering in South America and the next six months touring the Mediterranean. Stay tuned.

Breaking the Language Barrier with Google (Part 5): Communicating in the Office

I’m an intermediate-level Spanish speaker, but if you listened to me order food in a restaurant or have a polite conversation with a taxi driver you might think I was at an advanced level -- possibly even fluent -- albeit with a slight gringo accent. Watch me in a business meeting and the truth emerges. Business terms, sports metaphors, double-entendres, slang and colloquialisms fly back and forth and my head is spinning. I miss quite a bit of the content and the only way to understand everything would be to stop the meeting every 20 seconds and ask a different question – Disculpe, ¿Cuál es el propósito de esta reunión? (“Excuse me, what’s the purpose of this meeting?) Instead I become the quiet gringo in the corner, absorbing whatever I can. One-on-one conversation is much easier. I can read facial gestures, body language and most importantly, I can ask clarifying questions. For example, if someone says (in Spanish) “Please blah blah blah, blah report blah blah blah?” I can follow up with “You want the budget report that we’ve been working on?” When the person nods their head affirmatively, I know that I've understood them. Learning a language is a lot like detective work; when presented with an incomplete picture of something, you make educated guesses based on available facts.

Because of this, I try to prepare for meetings by bringing my laptop and having the Google translate web site open. Obviously any web translator will do, the point is that if I don’t understand a word I can look it up. Also, if I want to say something, but a word or phrase that I don’t know in Spanish is stopping me, I type in the English phrase, translate it and I’m able to get my point across. If the laptop is too conspicuous or not appropriate, I use the translator “app” on my iPod.

I have also become adept at hiding. There have been times when I need some information from someone and I‘ll see them at their desk and instead of walking up and asking them, I run for my laptop and compose a carefully-worded email. This way I am sure that I have conveyed my meaning and any intended nuances. Sometimes the Director of the center will start taking about this or that problem and end with ¿Qué piensas? (“What do you think?”) Even though I’ve understood what she has said and I have some firm opinions on it, I prefer to craft my thoughts in Spanish carefully, so I’ll say, Déjame pensarlo (Let me think about it) and I’ll head straight to my laptop.

This dynamic exists outside the office as well. For example, if my kids cannot make an evening swim team practice, I email the coach early in the day so that I know he sees it. Their coach has a tendency to run his words together and use a lot of slang, making phone conversations challenging. It is much easier to write the email in Google translate, check it over, then cut and paste it into an email. This way I know that the message sent was the same as the message received.

Breaking the Language Barrier with Google (Part 4): Finding a Job

When I first started looking for a volunteer job in Peru, I did what everyone does: I browsed the web. I was looking for a job that would utilize my retail consulting background in a Spanish-speaking environment. Ideally, I was looking for an NGO or microfinance organization that helped small-scale entrepreneurs, like street vendors, craftspeople, weavers or artisans. The question that worried me was: how was I going to find a job when I haven’t spoken Spanish in 4 years?

A web search pretty quickly came up with several organizations who arranged volunteer stints like building stoves, working with disadvantaged kids, teaching English to peasants and helping out in hospitals and orphanages. Unfortunately, they all charged $500-$1,000 per week; their fee for acting as go-between and linguistic intermediary. I also spent time Googling non-profit professionals to get their advice and had luck networking and getting leads from NGO executives in Mali, Guatemala, Canada, El Salvador, and Tanzania. Using Google translate, I sent unsolicited Spanish-language e-mails to non-profit executives in South America, as well. With one notable exception, my responses were overwhelmingly positive. The exception was a German who, when I mistakenly referred to my family as American instead of a North American, launched into a very long e-mail lecture on my ethnocentrism, “First of all just a comment to what you write, just that you learn not to make that kind of comments in Peru, because the people there don't like this kind of statements… the big, big majority of America speaks Spanish as their mother tongue, for Latin Americans, America is NOT USA, it’s the whole (double-)continent that goes from Alaska to Argentina.”

After taking my tongue-lashing, I continued my search. While perusing the entries on Idealist.org, I came across a near-perfect match in Ayacucho. An NGO was looking for a volunteer to help small-scale artisans and weavers. I had a Skype call with the lead coordinator and 20 minutes into the interview, he not only offered me the job he said I could write my own job description. I was initially excited about this opportunity, but the more my wife and I thought about Ayacucho, the more we become concerned that our teenage son and pre-teen daughter might be bored in a smaller town. Because of this, we decided against Ayacucho and opted to target Cusco as the place for our family.

Feeling emboldened by my Ayacucho experience, I felt more confident about finding similar jobs in Cusco. About this same time, I was talking to Spanish-language schools in Cusco about enrolling our family to improve our Spanish. While talking with a few, I learned that many of them offered volunteer projects that complemented the Spanish coursework. I broadened my Google search to include the words “Spanish schools” and “list of volunteer projects” and voilà, quite a few new possibilities presented themselves. One of the more interesting ones was listed in a pdf document buried deep into a Spanish school's web site…buried so deep that I could not find it when drilling down from the home page.

The job I liked – the one I have now – was a volunteer project for one of the Spanish Schools I was talking to. The Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco, an NGO supporting weavers in Andean communities, needed someone to help them sell their textiles and to plan and budget a large conference the following year. They asked me for a Spanish-language resume. I cut and pasted my entire resume into Google Translate, smoothed out the rough edges, e-mailed it and within a week they accepted me. After 2 months of web research and many Google-assisted translations, I had landed my perfect volunteer job without ever having to speak a word of Spanish.

Cusco Characters: Señora Nilda

As the director of the Centro de Textiles Traditionales de Cusco (CTTC), Señora Nilda plays an important role in preserving traditional Andean weaving techniques. CTTC is the NGO where I work and it supports over 400 weavers in 9 communities around Cusco from its museum, store and office location on Avenida Sol. Around the office she commands complete respect; people there are typically referred to by their first name – Domingo, Sonia, Amparo – but everyone refers to her as “Señora Nilda.” She wears her hair pulled straight back into a jet-black ponytail and usually wears somber, dark blue pantsuits…ironic attire for someone whose life revolves around traditional weaving and colorful indigenous patterns.

Señora Nilda’s story is well documented. She grew up in the local village of Chinchero and learned traditional weaving from the elders while most everyone else was cranking out woven goods made of synthetic fibers and dyes. She did very well in school and was the first girl from her village to attend university, where she studied tourism. During the turbulent 1980’s and early 1990’s, when the Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) was terrorizing much of Peru, Señora Nilda continued her studies and taught others the weaving techniques that she’d learned as a young girl. In 1996, with the help of many friends, she founded CTTC and its influence continues to grow each year.

The amazing thing about Señora Nilda is that she, more than almost anyone else, made high-quality, traditional textiles cool again. In the 1960’s and 1970’s indigenous highland people were drifting away from traditional weaving, opting for machine-made textiles from cheaper synthetic dyes and yarns. These days, being able to weave in the traditional way is a source of pride. As Nilda put it, “For many people who had these traditional weaving skills, it was a way to show status in their community…something to be proud of…and it was good for their self-esteem.”

In the 1980’s and early 1990’s, when the Sendero Luminoso terrorized Peru, tourists were afraid to visit Peru, young people went to Lima looking for jobs and it was a very unstable time in Cusco. In the mid-1990’s the timing was right to start CTTC as tourists were returning and Peru was much safer. According to Señora Nilda, “Yes, it was the right moment. When we started the center in 1996, political turmoil was behind us, tourists were coming back and the market was ready for us. It all came together

At an office picnic a few months ago, about 25 of us sat on the ground and ate roast chicken, beet salad and quinoa. Señora Nilda was the gracious host, making sure that everyone had napkins and enough Inca Cola to drink while her puppy Sombra rambled about. Señora Nilda talked with everyone in the office with warmth and charm. It’s the type of charm that makes you feel important – only later do you realize that she only talked with you for 2 minutes. She is a powerful woman who has a busy schedule and this was her time to connect with the people who make the office go.

As I’ve talked with various people about my work at the center, I’ve occasionally heard comments that imply she controls too much of the local textile industry in Cusco. Whether these comments are well-founded or professional jealousy is not relevant to me. It’s nice to see an indigenous woman with power.

Cusco Characters: Señor Alcides

Señor Alcides picked us up in front of the Cathedral in the Plaza de Armas in a beat-up, red Volkswagen beetle. He graciously got out of the car to open the passenger-side door for us (we soon learned that this was the only way it could open). My wife and kids piled into the back and I got in front. Señor Alcides is the director of an afternoon shelter for kids in Cusco called Colibri, where our kids have been volunteering for the past few months. Colibri is a safe place for kids to do their homework and relax after they’ve been at school and work during the day. Most of the kids are street vendors – boys who shine shoes, girls who sell chicle (chewing gum) or woven finger puppets – who need to work to help support what are typically single-parent households. Our kids help them with math and English homework, play board games and head to the playground to play soccer with them.

Our Volkswagen rolled out of the Plaza and we headed south to the town of Oropesa, where Señor Alcides would show us the orfanato, his orphanage for 11 boys in the Valle de Sur. Señor Alcides is about 5’6”, with smooth brown skin, clear eyes and a receding hairline. He smiles easily and has a very calm demeanor. This calmness may come from working with battered women and children at the Cusco Police Department for 27 years. While the police department does not provide any money to Colibri or the orphanage, they do allow Señor Alcides to knock off every afternoon to work on both projects.

Once we arrived in Oropesa we turned down a muddy unpaved road with full of holes and small craters. Miraculously, the Volkswagen beetle did not get stuck in the mud or bottom out. If anyone needed a four-wheel drive truck – not only to negotiate the road but to transport goods for the orphanage -- it was Señor Alcides. We arrived and were greeted by dogs, geese, chickens, a parrot and several smiling boys. We got out and took a tour of the orphanage. The main structure, where the boys study and sleep was a plywood-walled, corrugated-roof building elevated 2 feet off the ground. While we were meeting each of the boys inside, wind shook the building and the windows, many of which were covered with plastic. The boys were shy, polite and very interested in their visitors. We briefly toured the garden, the kitchen, and the outhouse. We were also shown the well, which took Señor Alcides and his family a month to complete, working every evening and weekend. One of the older boys, clearly mentally challenged, told me everything he knew about World War II…about the “Germans and Italians being on the same side” and about “France being occupied.” He explained that he learned it all from a DVD he had seen “many, many times.” Señor Alcides smiled and put his arm around the boy and it was time for us to go.

On the way back to Cusco, we stopped at the bakery to buy the boys some chutas, large sweet bread loaves that are famous locally. While driving back, Señor Alcides told me about balancing Colibri, the orphanage, his police work counseling battered women and his wife and four kids. As he was talking, I was asking myself, “Do I believe him? Is he really a saint or is he a really good fundraiser?” He talked of the challenges of raising money for both projects, of the Dutchman who raised and sent $1,500 from Holland only to have it get “lost” somewhere in the police department. I decided that I believed him, not because of what he said but because of what he drove. I figured that anyone who needs a 4x4 truck as much as he does…and drives a beat-up Volkswagen from the 60’s...must be an honest man.

You can find Señor Alcides and Colibri every afternoon at Calle Resbalosa 410-A in Cusco. Stop by and ask him if he needs some help.


This post is part of See Simi's travel blog carnival "Feel Good" Travel.

Ten Reasons Why Your Family Shouldn’t Take a Year Off: Reason #4 “What about your career?”

Pulling up your family’s suburban roots and heading off for some developing country for a year is foolish. There are lots of reasons not to do it. For example: What about your career?

This is a really, really good question. Even with the economy on life support and people moving from job to job at a much quicker rate than ever before, employers still tend to look askance at a one year hole in your resume. Not only are you losing a year of income, but when you return, it often takes quite a few months to find a job. At the executive level – and given the current economy -- this might mean as much as two years without work. This is arguably the biggest obstacle to enjoying an extended sabbatical with your family.

There are, however, a few different ways of looking at this.

First of all, as a consultant in the very cyclical retail industry during the worst economy in a half century, there’s a chance that there may not be much work anyway in the next 12-24 months. If I were to go half the year with no income, we’d be worse off financially than if we rented out the house and traveled the world…in fact, we’d actually lose less money. This alone is pretty compelling. An additional benefit of being a consultant is that clients are used to the idea of an uneven work history due to the project-related nature of the profession.

Secondly, in the past 4-5 years, I’ve had a burgeoning desire to work in the non-profit sector and do something a bit more meaningful than just drive shareholder wealth for retail companies. What better time to offer my pro-bono consulting services than during the worst economy in decades?

Thirdly, by working pro-bono, I am…working. I am doing actual work, helping an organization and adding to my professional skills and experiences. This is something that many of my out-of-work colleagues aren’t able to say. Additionally, in the internet age, it is much easier to keep in touch with my professional contact network via email and social networking sites like LinkedIn. With LinkedIn, a kind of Facebook for executives, it's possible to proactively manage the perception of my career to the people in my professional network. The people in my network don’t need to know that I am not getting paid; all they need to know is that I’m on an assignment with another client.

Lastly, when will we ever have a chance again to do this?

Bless the SUV

Within the first two weeks of starting work for the Centro de Textiles Tradionales de Cusco (CTTC) my daughter and I were invited to a ceremony in the Sacred Valley of the Incas to bless the Center’s new SUV. CTTC supports over 400 indigenous weavers in 9 small communities, most of which are in remote mountain valleys that are only accessed by four-wheel drive. The ceremony was to be held at the shrine of El Senor de Huanca (“The Lord of Huanca”). The only thing I knew about El Senor de Huanca was that every other taxi in Cusco displayed decals with the words Guiame El Senor de Huanca (Guide me Lord of Huanca) across the top portion of their windshields. What I learned that day was that pilgrims from all over South America visit both the chapel and a painting of Jesus Christ inside a nearby cave, as well as bathe in the two nearby springs that are reputed to have miraculous healing properties.

The story of El Senor de Huanca is somewhat shrouded in mystery, but there are two principal events or “miracles”, around which the story seems to coalesce. The first event was in 1675, when a peasant miner named Diego Quispe from Chincero decided to escape the exploitative environment of the local Vasos mine in the Sacred Valley. While escaping on foot, he broke his journey by spending the night in a cave high on Pachatusan Mountain. During the night Diego was awakened by a brilliant light illuminating the dark cavern and within the light was the image of Jesus Christ. The image, whose body was bloody and beaten, spoke to him and told him he’d been chosen as a messenger and to go back to his village get the local priest and bring him back to the cave. Diego, after leaving a simple silver cross in the cave, went to Chinchero and returned with the priest. He also brought a renowned painter from Cusco who portrayed the likeness related to him by Diego in the cave where image appeared. When news of this event circulated, the cave became a pilgrimage site and a chapel was erected the next year.

The second event was in 1775, when a rich Bolivian miner named Don Pedro Valero became suddenly ill and bedridden in Cochabamba, Bolivia. When no local doctors could cure him, a foreign doctor healed him with a treatment of healing water. Don Pedro offered to pay the doctor but he declined and said that the only payment he would accept is a visit to his home in Huanca. Three years later, knowing only that it was near Cusco, Don Pedro set out to visit the doctor in Huanca but had much difficulty finding him. After a few months of searching, some miners coincidently led him to the same cave where the Jesus Christ image was painted 100 years earlier. Don Pedro was astounded to find that the image painted on the rock in the cave was of the very same doctor that treated him three years earlier.

Unaware of the details of the Huanca story, my daughter and I met my work colleagues at the Textile Center on a Saturday morning to carpool to the Sacred Valley. Along the way we stopped at Oropesa, a town about 20 kilometers from Cusco that is locally famous for its round, sweet bread loaves. We bought a couple bread loaves about a foot and a half in diameter to share at our picnic later that day. Not long after reaching the Sacred Valley we turned left and started to climb the road uphill and then quickly pulled to the side. Impromptu shops lined the narrow sides of the road with what seemed to be miniature toys: cars, trucks, houses, high-rise apartment buildings, boats, even tiny stacks of $100 bills. It was explained to me that these were “aspirational” gifts; if you buy a miniature version of what you desire, you’ll soon receive the real thing. While my colleagues decorated the car with streamers, balloons, flowers and good luck charms, my daughter bought a bag of rice to throw at the SUV-blessing ceremony.

Once we got to the chapel and shrine, we waited for quite a while for the priest to arrive. We walked the grounds and watched pilgrims bathing in the healing waters and we watched a middle-aged couple get married. Once the priest arrived, he quickly went about his work. He greeted each member of our party of 20 people with warmth and charm, then slowly made his way around the car. He sprinkled holy water inside all the doors and lifted the engine hood to carefully bless the car’s most vital area. Once done, he instructed us to suspend an earthenware pitcher of chicha (fermented corn beer) in front of the grill of the car with two ribbons. Someone brought out a hammer and shattered the pitcher and everyone threw some rice and the SUV was now officially blessed.

After the ceremony, we drove to spot in the valley for a picnic and a game of volleyball. I think we all travelled with a bit more confidence thanks to the El Senor de Huanca insurance policy.

The Economics of Volunteering

Earlier this year I was asked, by the parent of a daughter on the basketball team I coached, why I was going all the way to South America to volunteer when there were plenty of volunteer opportunities at home in Marin County, California. My answer was short and simple: “I can’t afford to do it in Marin.” What I should have asked, but didn't, was, "Who needs help more - a team of 6th grade basketball players or a couple hundred Andean peasants?"

Marin County is one of the most expensive places in the world to live and often requires two six-figure incomes in order to pay the mortgage. In families where only one spouse works and the other stays at home, the working spouse usually spends significant time traveling and working evenings and weekends. Adding on 20 hours a week of volunteering would upset the work-family balance even further.

With this “economic yoke” around our heads, putting in substantial volunteer hours near our home was not in the cards. By renting out our house for a year and covering out costs, we removed the yoke and were able to volunteer anytime and anywhere we pleased.

I did a lot of research on volunteering and NGOs in the months leading up to our sabbatical. I talked to a Canadian family who spent a couple months volunteering in Urubamba, Peru with ProPeru, I spoke with a woman in Washington D.C. who was the U.S. director of Coprodeli, I chatted with a representative from Cross-Cultural Solutions, as well as organizations like Global Crossroads, BUNAC, Personal Overseas Development, I to I, Peru Positive Action, Gap Year, and Global Vision International. With the exception of Coprodeli, these organizations request fees anywhere from $500-1,000 per week for volunteering. In addition to paying to be a volunteer, you must pay for your round trip airfare, as well. In return for these fees, the organization will typically pick you up at the airport, provide your room and board and set you up with a volunteer opportunity. Having travelled quite a bit in developing countries, I know that the actual cost of what they are providing is significantly less than what they are charging. I’m sure that these aid organizations are doing good things in developing countries; I just didn’t feel that spending almost $1,000 per week was necessary.

At this point in my research, I was learning of a new industry called “Volun-Tourism.” This niche travel industry caters to a growing number of people who want to volunteer and help somewhere in the third world, but don’t have the time, language ability or inclination to arrange a volunteer opportunity on their own. The perfect client has only a week or two of vacation, doesn’t speak the local language and needs someone to arrange it for them. Some of the organizations do a lot of good but some are nothing more than the volunteer equivalent of a photo op. (“Here’s a photo of me building a house in Peru”)

After spending a lot of time researching the different aid organizations, I did find several that facilitated meaningful volunteer matches (idealist.org, Fairplay, etc.) in Latin America and, understandably, they did require a longer commitment and at least an intermediate level of Spanish. From these organizations I was able to narrow down my list of potential employers and make my choice.

Breaking the Language Barrier with Google (Part 3): The First Day at the Office

I knew I was in trouble on my first day of work at the Center for Traditional Textiles of Cusco (CTTC) when I sat down for a meeting and the program director walked in, looked at me and asked “Un ratito?” As I wondered how a small rat would come in handy at a business meeting, the director noticed my confusion and gave me a patronizing look normally reserved for someone who’s discovered they’re dealing with a moron: “Oh…he has no idea what I'm saying.” While the Director smiled uneasily and walked out of the room, I quickly Googled “ratito” on my laptop and learned that it did not mean small rat (una rata) but was an expression meaning “just a minute”.

When she returned, she and I along with the head of the Center’s Education Department sat down to my first-ever business meeting in Spanish. I knew nothing more than we would be talking about a budget for an event that was to take place the following year. We proceeded to review a proposal that was provided by a Peruvian business consultant. She guided us through the proposal while I nodded pensively; I understood about 25% of what I read and heard. The proposal contained many business terms that I was unfamiliar with. The program director finished outlining the proposal and the two of them paused, looked at me and said "Puedes hacerlo?" (“Can you do this?”)

I took a long pause to glance at the proposal in order to give the impression of measured thought, while I asked myself: “What was I thinking? How in the world am I going to do this?”

Over the next few weeks I was to learn more about the project. The Center for Traditional Textiles in Cusco plans to host a Pan-American event called Encuentro de los Tejadores de las Americas. (Meeting of the Weavers of the Americas) in October of 2010. They will invite weavers from many countries from the Western Hemisphere to come to Cusco and share knowledge, weaving techniques, marketing tips on the art and commerce of weaving.

As I continued to peruse the proposal, I weighed my options…I could fake it: “Sure, It’ll be on your desk tomorrow morning” or I could try honesty “Look, I have no idea what you guys are talking about”. I decided to try to buy time: “Let me see all the related documents and I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

Later that day, after I’d gathered all the relevant documents, I cut and pasted them into Google Translate, fixed the inevitable machine-translation errors, and absorbed the information. I read the English translation of all 15 documents and was starting to get a general idea of what they were planning. In addition, I was quickly learning a lot of Spanish-language business terminology. I made an English-language list of all the activities that entailed an expense, dropped them into Google translate and arranged the English-language results into logical groups in an excel spreadsheet. After cleaning it up a bit and adding columns for soles and dollars, I had a first pass at Spanish-Language budget.

When I came into work the next morning I took my colleagues through my budget model. Not only were they impressed with the model, they were impressed with my newly-acquired business Spanish vocabulary. Based on this, they decided they did not need the Peruvian consultant whose proposal we reviewed the previous day; I now had my first project to work on.

Setting the Scene: Cusco, Peru

Cusco, Peru is our chosen home for the remainder of the year. Cusco was once the principal city of the South American Inca Empire and is now the undisputed archaeological capital of the Americas, as well as the continent’s oldest continuously inhabited city. It is known as the gateway to Machu Picchu and its location makes it accessible to the Andean Highlands, Lake Titicaca and Bolivia as well as the Peruvian Amazon.

Since our family meeting in April 2008, much has been done to get us unplugged from Marin County, California and plugged into Cusco. Almost all of what we envisioned has come to fruition.

I work at CTTC, the Centro Textiles Tradionales de Cusco, an NGO whose mission is to preserve and promote indigenous Andean weaving traditions. The center was started in 1996 by Nilda Callañaupa, an indigenous woman from the local village of Chinchero, who has organized collectives in nine towns, which support about 400 weavers, and helps to market their work for a fair price. Most days I tap away on my laptop while Indian women, who smell like they’ve slept in a cornfield, simultaneously weave and care for their babies. The second weekend after my arrival, everyone from the center went to a local shrine to have a priest “bless” the Center’s new SUV. Afterwards we had a picnic and played volleyball.

My wife will teach English at one of the many language schools here in Cusco. She recently acquired her CELTA certificate and should have no problem finding a job teaching English as a second language.

The kids are studying at Amauta Spanish Language School and are taking one-on-one Spanish lessons four hours per day. We chose Amauta because of the breadth of services they offered for families: Spanish school, volunteer placement, host family placement, travel agency, free salsa dancing lessons, cultural talks and tours, as well as satellite schools in Buenos Aires (Argentina), the Sacred Valley and the Manu Biosphere. The kids will volunteer at Colibrí, an afternoon program run by the Cusco Police Department that helps keep street kids entertained and out of trouble.

The kids are on the Cusco Swim Team, which holds nightly practices at the Piscina Municipal, next to one of the main train stations. Their coach is Cristian Ancari and the team has monthly swim meets in various Peruvian cities. Twice a year, the best swimmers from Peru, Bolivia, Argentian and Chile compete in the Transandina Youth Games. The next games are in Argentina in November and both kids hope to qualify.

Currently we are staying with a host family in the Santa Monica district of Cusco. Zulma and Alfredo Chavez have been wonderful hosts and we feel like part of their family. My daughter and I went to their corn farm in the Sacred Valley a few weeks ago and helped them with the corn harvest and Alfredo and his son took me to the cockfights one Sunday afternoon.

Last week I signed a rental agreement for a furnished apartment bordering the San Blas district and we will move there within 10 days. Once this is done, we will be completely settled in Cusco.

Stimulus Package for the Suburban Family

In late 2008 Congress passed what is commonly referred to as the Fiscal Stimulus Package. I haven’t read the act, but I believe that there is nothing in it that provides stimulus for the sagging spirit of the suburban American family.

There are swift and decisive actions in the Stimulus Package to reinvigorate a stale economy, but none to reinvigorate the day-in, day-out staleness of suburban life. There is plenty in the act to address the global financial crisis, but there’s nothing that addresses mid-life crisis. There are measures to get investors excited again about the American economy, but none to put more excitement in the lives of a suburban family from Marin County, California.

Just as the aforementioned legislation is geared to get the economy moving, our family decided to get moving…initially to Peru. Immediately following a family congress in April of 2008 we decided on the cornerstones of the first part of our Stimulus Package: volunteer, work and put down new “roots” in South America. We would later decide on the second half of this trip: a grand tour of the Mediterranean to traces the origins of western civilization.

Our principal goal was to find a sense of community in a completely foreign locale. We decided to try to find work and volunteer opportunities somewhere in the Peruvian Andes and have our two kids become proficient in Spanish. Since both kids are pretty good swimmers, we would also try to find them a swim team, to help build their language skills in a familiar environment and contribute further to a sense of community.

Certainly, the timing was right for an extended sabbatical. The economy hadn’t been this bad in decades and both my spouse and I work in cyclical industries (real estate and retail, respectively). With both of us professionally independent there was a good chance that we might not earn 6 months worth of income in the upcoming year. Some quick math showed us that continuing to toil in this manner left us financially worse off than renting out our house, volunteering and spending the next 12 months traveling the world.

This was easier said than done. Our strategy required renting out the house, home-schooling, or “road-schooling” the kids, finding a home for our dog, selling the car, canceling the cell phones and taking care of the myriad of details that go with an entrenched suburban life. We immediately launched into the planning phase and started ticking things off our list.

Although admittedly not the centerpiece of our Stimulus Package, we started to focus, like virtually every U.S. bank, on selling “troubled assets”. For example, we used Craig’s List to sell the lawnmower that hadn’t been used for 10 years, as well as the dust-covered wicker chairs that were purchased at a Williams-Sonoma sample sale 15 years ago. The government’s Stimulus Package was designed to utilize idle resources; the idea behind our Suburban Stimulus Package was to become more idle -- and less rushed -- in order to enjoy life.

This online journal will record how we made it happen and will document our progress.