Volunteer Teacher Thailand (or VTT) is almost single-handedly run by Ken Hyde, a British school principal who went to Thailand after the 2004 Tsunami to help rebuild houses and discovered the great need for learning English in the area since 90% of the English-speaking population of Khao Lak was killed in the disaster. Many of the tourism facilities and employees were located right along the coast where the tsunami hit. Upon returning home, Ken decided to take early retirement and go back to Khao Lak and offer English classes led by himself and volunteers.The volunteers work in teams and go out to mostly elementary and middle schools in the surrounding community who have limited facilities and resources. When enough helpers are available he’ll send them to a high school and a local orphanage. The first day of our week was spent lesson planning. Ken helped pick out the lessons for…

Chiapas, Mexico has always been a place of wonder for me. Since I first heard about the Zapatistas, an indigenous led revolutionary movement that has broken society’s structures, to create a new and improved society. I was privileged enough to live with the people of this inspiring movement for three months and learn about their intriguing and diverse culture, natural surroundings and the struggles of its people, through my internship in Mexico. Located in the very South of Mexico, the state of Chiapas is enveloped by mountainous jungle, enshrined in rich indigenous traditions and home to many ancient Mayan kingdoms that can make any person imagine the intrepid stories that took place here. Chiapas is known for its abundant vegetation and precious biodiversity.  I traveled to Chiapas for three months to participate in an internship at a small grassroots organization working to promote women’s health and support women’s groups, some…

When people ask about my year of directing an orphanage for the International Humanity Foundation in Kenya, their most frequent question is, “Was it hard?” They mean “Was it hard to have spotty electricity? Did you miss flush toilets? Was it difficult to live where air conditioning was a breeze in the shade and there were no heaters to keep you warm when the temperature plunged at night?” I guess so, but I got used to all that. It was annoying for the first month or so, but then it became normal. I adapted and didn't notice what I was missing anymore. Not that living abroad was easy. That year was the most difficult in my life… no exaggeration. It's just that the greatest difficulties weren't of the physical sort, three bouts with malaria withstanding. I went abroad to learn about poverty, to live a different life from the one…

Admittedly, it was with a mixture of trepidation and excitement that I initially accepted a position as a volunteer archaeologist in Jordan. Stories of grotesque camel spiders and venomous snakes were a source of apprehension, but the thought of working with the local Bedouin people on ancient sites in Jordan’s picturesque Dana Biosphere Reserve quenched any initial misgivings.

I set my alarm for 6 a.m., but since the roosters wake earlier, I’m generally up by 5:30. After a year and half, my life as a Peace Corps volunteer in a Samoan village has in many ways become familiar and routine – but naturally, there are plenty of surprises always waiting to sneak up on me.

How about a holiday in Spain, free of charge, including your own comfortable room with a superb view over the mountains or the ancient town below, hearty breakfasts and gastronomical lunches and dinners with red wine from the very same region, a lovely swimming pool, and splendid weather? And on top of that, the opportunity to get acquainted with 20 highly motivated Spanish professionals who will fill you in on "everything Spanish", plus another 20 interesting Anglos from all walks of life and every corner of the English speaking world? "Great", you may say, "but..... what's the catch"? Well, it's hard to believe, but all you really have to do is converse with your new friends in your native tongue, English!

Every year in the Himalayan country of Nepal, thousands of girls are sold by their families to be bonded servants. Olga Murray, an 84-year-old American, is in the process of eliminating this custom. The organization founded by Olga uses a unique method: it offers a family a piglet or goat, which they can raise on scraps and sell for more money than they would receive for their daughter’s labor, in exchange for simply letting their daughter stay at home and get an education.

“Bienvenido a la Republica Dominicana!” were the first words I heard after disembarking my 6:00 am flight. It was the start of spring break my senior year of college, and instead of joining my friends on a trip to Acapulco, Mexico, I opted for an alternative spring break trip coordinated through Stonehill College’s Campus Ministry.

Cusco was considered by the Ancient Incas to be the navel of the world, and served as the capital of their empire. With Machu Picchu, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and recently named one of the Seven New Wonders of the World, nearby the tourism industry is booming. Thanks to a citywide ban on all foreign, corporate restaurant and retail chains (such as McDonald’s and Starbucks), visitors are encouraged to eat and shop from locally run businesses. Tourists can appreciate the fact that they are making an impact on the local economy and enjoy spending time in a city that, without the standard signs of globalization, feels a bit off the beaten path.

The little round sign above the door told me I was at the right place: Aldea Yanapay – Otra Forma de Vivir. A voice approached from behind as I searched for the right buzzer. “Are you here to volunteer?” It was as much an eager welcome as a question. “I just came by to see the after-school program,” I started to respond, but it suddenly no longer seemed necessary to give a calculated, uncommitted answer. Her unfeigned enthusiasm was already convincing me that this would be worthwhile.

Spreading a final handful of maggots in the sand, I sit back to survey the remnants of a nest. In front of me there are two worm-filled corpses, a pile of 11 eggs that remain unopened and a large pile of broken shells. I walk over to the shade and pick up four baby sea turtles that are barely alive. 114 of their siblings hatched last night and these guys couldn't make it out of the nest.

This year I made my fourth pilgrimage to the Nordeste, Brasil’s northeastern coast. Although my travels in Brazil have taken me into both the rough interior state of Goiás and the urban sprawl of southeastern cities Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, the state of Ceará on the northeastern coast has been my first and faithful love. It is the Brazil that I know best and that has had the greatest impact on me; it is the land of red dirt, brown skin, and white smiles. I am drawn not just to the foreign terrain, or the luau of exotic fruits, or the sweet sway of the samba. I am called to the children. I need to go back and see how Wellison is doing. Has Dalmo been taking care of his sister? I wonder what Tayane thinks about the pictures that I sent her.

On a warm Sunday afternoon in October, Lily the pig lies flat on her side, eyes closed, snaggletooth poking out from a wide, peaceful grin. The enormous fans trained on the bevy of sows combat the heat and ruffle their short, wiry hair. Lily grumbles just a little when the pig leaning on her back shifts position, but soon settles down again, snorting into the hay. Lost in daydreams, she doesn’t so much as twitch when I reach out to tickle her wrinkly pink neck.

Getting the opportunity to use one’s vocation or avocation to further a worthy cause is something that nearly all of us seem to aspire to, but don’t always fully pursue or know how to go about. Since everyone who visits this innovative site (and I emphasize ‘in’) lists travel either as his or her business or hobby: the project I’m about to mention may be your perfect chance.

It is 2:00pm and Hanoi’s heat is as stifling and claustrophobic as a damp wool sweater that is three sizes too small. The bodies of Korean, Canadian, and American volunteers glimmer with sweat- filthy from traffic exhaust and mosquito repellant. The women no longer bother to wipe the perspiration that streams down their temples, backs, and legs. Only Thuy, the group leader – who is from Hanoi– is as sweat-free as the scores of women who glide down the road on mopeds in long-sleeved shirts, pants, facemasks, and hats.

The early morning sun shines brightly; I hang my wet clothes to dry on the clothesline, hoping it will not rain before I come back for lunch. Ever since the water pump has broken and there has been no running water, simple chores like washing clothes takes infinitely more time. As Tarra, a visiting PhD student said to me, “you haven’t been to Africa until you’ve experienced the joy of bucket showers”. I wonder if my experience is even more enriched since our bucket showers come from our rainwater tank, which was also the home for a colony of small red worms that found their way into the buckets and thus, in our showers.