by Bill Birnbaum
Bill Birnbaum is the author of A Lifetime of Small Adventures: Stories of Adventure, Misadventure, and Lessons Learned Along the Way. He writes a blog at www.AdventureRetirement.com, and lives in Sisters, Oregon, with his adventurous wife, Wendy, a red kayak, and a well-worn pair of hiking boots.
My wife, Wendy, and I had promised ourselves that, when we retired, ours would be an active, adventurous retirement. In fact, we avoided using the word “retirement.” Instead, we’d refer to “a new dimension to our lives.”
We both expected that our “new dimension” would involve more than simply selecting a pretty town with a small population and a mountain range nearby. There was also the question of “what will we do when we get there?” Wendy, especially, wanted to do volunteer work — to help people and to benefit society.
In the spring of 2005, we attended a retirement fair on the campus of a nearby university. There, we met a recruiter from the United States Peace Corps. A 20-minute conversation with the recruiter was all we needed — we were interested. We spent that evening reading over the Peace Corps publications. Within two days, we were filling out our applications.
The organization warns applicants, “Don’t assume you’ll be accepted into the Peace Corps. Some people aren’t. Don’t quit your job or sell your house.” Allan, our Peace Corps recruiter, offered us a very specific warning about the Peace Corps’ medical department. He said that it was a bureaucracy, and especially tough when it came to screening seniors. Seems that while the Peace Corps recruiters were working very hard to develop volunteers among the senior community, the Peace Corps’ medical department was working very hard to reject them. Allan warned us, “For sure, don’t sell your home.”
In spite of this warning, Wendy shut down her law practice, and I, my consulting practice. And we sold our home.
The Peace Corps approved Wendy’s application quickly. But mine got hung up in the all-powerful bureaucracy of the Peace Corps’ medical department. Seems that, when I took my medical exam, one of my three blood pressure readings was a bit high. So my doctor prescribed a blood pressure medicine. Because of this, the Peace Corps’ medical department required that I take a whole series of tests. No matter that the various tests showed that I was fine, the Peace Corps’ medical department kept asking for more and more tests. They seemed impossible to satisfy. This hassle with the medical department dragged on for many months. Finally, they rejected my application.
Actually, we took this news pretty well. We didn’t resent the personal commitment we had made to the Peace Corps — selling our home, closing down Wendy’s law practice and my consulting practice, and putting everything we owned in storage. Instead of looking back, we looked forward. We both agreed, “Okay, if the Peace Corps won’t have us, we’ll create our own volunteer experience.”
Though it would be more complicated to find our own volunteer opportunity, we were especially enthusiastic about doing so. As Wendy explained, “We now have a blank canvas on which we can paint any picture we choose.”
We immediately began planning our “new dimension.” Wendy suggested, “Let’s go to South America; there we’ll have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in the Spanish language and to learn about, and travel in, another continent.”
“That sounds fine to me,” I agreed.
Researching each of South America’s countries, we decided on Peru — for a couple of reasons. First, it’s a poor country with many needs; we figured we’d likely have our choice of volunteer opportunities there. And Peru has many indigenous people — 12 million of a total population of 28 million. This would, no doubt, prove culturally interesting. We were set — we’d go to Peru.
As Wendy was relatively new to the Spanish language, we decided to begin our sojourn in Peru with a few weeks of language school. Searching on the Internet, we found an excellent language school in Arequipa, Peru’s second-largest city. In addition to one-on-one language instruction, the school offered “home stay,” that is, they’d arrange for us to live with a local family. We appreciated the idea that home stay would offer us a great orientation both to the Spanish language and to Peruvian culture.
With that settled, we next turned our attention to potential volunteer opportunities. With some online research, I learned of an organization called ADEA Abancay. Its mission was to boost the economy in the town of Abancay and in the even poorer surrounding region of Apurímac in the Peruvian Andes. It did so by providing consultation to entrepreneurs. Hmmm … business consulting. Right up my alley. I began an e-mail correspondence with a fellow named Danilo Córdova, the head of consulting at ADEA. He told me that he could use my help in consulting to entrepreneurs.
I said to Wendy, “This opportunity with ADEA looks interesting. But I don’t know what volunteer opportunities might be available to you in Abancay.”
She said, “If the opportunity with ADEA is of interest to you, let’s go to Abancay. I’m sure I’ll find a volunteer opportunity there.”
I sent Danilo an e-mail and told him we’d travel to Abancay to meet with him and explore the volunteer opportunity that he’d offered me. The plan was we’d fly from Los Angeles, California, to Arequipa, Peru. There we’d study Spanish for six weeks, then travel 16 hours by bus to Abancay. In Abancay, I’d meet with Danilo and, potentially, work with ADEA as a volunteer business consultant.
During the six weeks we lived with the family in one of Arequipa’s middle-class neighborhoods, studying Spanish, we developed a wonderful relationship with them. Following our six-week stay there, we traveled by bus to Abancay. I met with Danilo and decided to work with him at ADEA.
Wendy literally walked around town knocking on doors, using her “beginner Spanish” in her search for volunteer work. She landed an assignment helping kids in an after-school program. Through that work, she developed wonderfully warm relationships both with the kids and also with her coworkers.
Two years after completing our volunteer work, we returned to Peru. The purpose of our trip was to attend the wedding of the son of the family with whom we had lived in Arequipa. During that same trip, we also returned to Abancay. There, we celebrated the high school graduation of three of the girls with whom Wendy had worked.
Our Peruvian friends refer to Wendy and me as their American family. We, in turn, refer to them as our Peruvian family. Indeed, our move to Peru, upon retirement, added an exciting and significant new dimension to our lives.