Thoughts from rural Bolivia part V

I used to think that being an American of a different race gave me extra credibility in the eyes of Bolivians. Extra cred for what? of being more informed, concerned, and aware of the cultural and social implications of a first worlder in a third world nation.

My experience in the campo changed all that. It didn't matter that I was the same color as my host family. What mattered were my strange clothes, my fancy red backpack, my toilet paper, and the gifts I brought and gave to the family. The simple clothes on my back and the few material goods I brought with me was enough to create a large gap between me and the family. They signified a vast difference in economic and cultural backgrounds, so much so that any gap bridged by being of a darker skin color was only widened again, possibly further than before.

Never have I felt so out of my comfort zone. I had to ask myself, what takes priority in defining my identity? Skin color, gender, appearance, or economic/class background? I realized that it's different depending on where or what kind of situation I'm in. It's disempowering to think that others' perceptions of you determines your role and influence your interpretations of your purpose in a certain situation.

In el campo, it was clear that my nationality and economic background took priority over every other factor of my identity. It's funny because I definitely try to play down my privileged background because I feel like it lessens my credibility as a liberal student out to 'change the world', if you will. But I could not deny my higher economic status in the campo, just because it was so embarrassingly obvious. I need to acknowledge, due to my sheltered and privileged upbringing, that there will be some aspects of inequity and oppression that I may never understand, try as I might. But does it count that I try?