By Massimiliano Claps Someone calls them Collas. Most of them don’t like this name, because it reminds them of past (and recent…) suffering and colonialism. Whatever you want to call them, they’re not like the rest of Argentinian people. They are the true descendants of the tough people that inhabited the highlands between Argentina, Chile, Bolivia and Peru for ten centuries. They endured the domination of Incas and then Spanish colonialists, mixed with them, but never lost their original character no their colorful outfits. Their hearts spread wide to welcome all newcomers, but they do so slowly, in silence, only after their big black eyes have dug deep in your heart to discover if you’re here to give something, or to take away something from them. They’re just like the lands they inhabit…La Puna. A three-thousand to five-thousand meters high desert, constantly beaten by tropical sun during the day and by freezing Andean winds at night, where the air is so thin that the stars are a million and more, and you can do things only one breadth at a time… always surrounded by a deep silence and by colorful sandstone that rise hundreds or thousand meters from the flat desert. A flat desert that from time to time surprises you with a group of “llamas”, “ovejas”, “burros”, or “vicuñas”, the only animals that can survive in these meager lands, along with “campesinos” that dig “papas” out of sand and rocks. This is not a place for the faint-hearted (nor for anyone that fears cold weather), but here is where I could really immerse in the local culture, I established deep relationships with people that I only talked to a few times, and wheeled free in the desert with an old bike to reach the feet of 4100 mt. Cerro Escaya and then hike to the top (…almost), to visit an isolated archeological site at the Laguna Colorada to see prehistoric paintings, and to enjoy a “guiso de lenteja” in the tiny village of Yavi. This is where I saw teenagers feeling so lonely and ashamed of their poverty that they did not even wanted to sit with other kids to share a soup, but could only pass their bowls through a tiny window, and only the big heart of Matilde could eventually convince them to, at least, walk-in and wait for the soup in the kitchen, while enjoying the laughs of Nancy and Soledad giving the last touch to the “comida”. This is a place that everyone in the “developed world” should see at least once in their life, to understand that all of the comforts of our life are not necessary to make you smile. To ingrain in everybody’s mind that dignity is not given by more money, cars, TVs, cell-phones, ski-trips… but by the ability to afford some food every-day, a solid roof, a decent job for your family, or simply to dream of becoming a teacher to help other kids, or travel the world to know more (not to own more), like my good friend Josue does. And all of this without falling in the thousand traps that you can find along the unpaved path of poverty. Thanks to Voluntario Global that gave me this opportunity and in particular thanks to Matilde, her brother Antonio and her sister-in-law Ana Maria for the wonderful work they do every-day with Jose-Luis, Franco, Lucas, Ariel, Abigail, Javier, Karen, Sofi, Gessal, Nicole and all the other kids, by putting their own money, time and souls on the line. I hope I was able to give a little help and joy, I certainly took home a lot… and left with the desire to go back! http://www.voluntarioglobal.org