Reminiscences

The other day, I realized that I have only four more months left in Bolivia. Time has flown by. It got me thinking about what I have gained from being here - a place that was unknown to me seven months ago. Some things were obvious: it has helped me improve my Spanish; it has helped me learn more about the inner functionings of an organization that provides both microfinance products and health services and education; it has allowed me to explore places that I had never thought I would visit. 
Other things were less tangible. For example, it is almost impossible for me to imagine going back to the "developed" world. The place where everything functions, where driving infractions are taken seriously and punished, where time is respected, where such a thing as "customer service" exists. It seems like I lived in that world in another lifetime. I have gotten so used to riding on often crowded minibuses to work, that I can't imagine getting on a subway where, god forbid, you make eye contact with someone. That is just one example - the concept of personal space is very different here. 
While coming down from El Alto a couple of days ago, I saw La Paz sprawled out before me, lights twinkling all the way in the distance. It is one of the views I enjoy and will miss the most. I thought about all the frustrations I felt at the beginning and how I don't feel them as much anymore, although nothing around me has changed. I guess I have. I realized that you can only feel frustrated if you come with preconceived notions of what a place and its people should be like, of what is the "right" way to do things. Once you overcome that, it is much harder for the differences and so-called quirks to get to you. This should have been clear to me. After all, I have lived in foreign countries before. I guess deep inside I knew that but I had never voiced that thought coherently before. What is infuriating at first, can become endearing over time.
I am not certain of the point when I started feeling less like a tourist and more like a someone who actually lives here. Perhaps it came at the time when I started relating more to my colleagues, or the time when merchants would quote me the local and not "tourist" price, or the time while talking with our organization's clients (women of low socioeconomic and education levels) they asked me when I would come back to talk to them again. Whenever it happened, one thing is clear. It is harder to leave behind a place once you cross that line. Once you have let the local people and culture get to you.