A year ago, the world seemed to be waiting for Mia Beams ’24, Chiara Vilnius-Santos ’24 and Lauren “Flo” Fahlberg ’24. Tired of classical education, the 3 young high school graduates to finish a year learning outdoors in the classroom, and the university’s Novogratz Bridge Year program seemed like an herbal solution. All three were accepted, and the three spent the end of their last years eagerly preparing to finish nine months away from their families, living with strangers and immersing themselves in Bolivia’s culture and daily life.
What they can be prepared for: a political uprising and a global pandemic.
When members of Bolivia’s Puente Year 2019-2020 Group arrived at Princeton in late August 2019 to sail, they were warned about the political state in Bolivia. Academics knew that the next presidential election in October was highly anticipated, yet no one could have known how the controversy would temporarily turn into chaos.
“We knew it would be a confusing choice,” Beams said. “But it’s much more than that.”
Fahlberg laughs as he watches the organization react for the first time to the news of the election. The program’s assistant director, Matt Lynn, told academics it would be “an attractive year to participate in the Year of the Bridge in Bolivia,” he recalls.
“I remember we were all just sitting there … like, ‘Oh, this is going to be fun! We get to see the electoral process in another country!’” Fahlberg said. “Flash forward two months later…”
After a non-stop first month through Bolivia, the academics, however, settled with their host families in the small town of Tiquipaya, so they believe it would be the rest of the time abroad. There, they learned more about the controversy surrounding Evo Morales, the country’s oldest and first-time Aboriginal president, over dinner with their host families.
On October 20, 2019, Morales won the first circular of the presidential election with a 10% lead over his opponent, Carlos Mesa. Immediately, the hypothesis that the elections had been rigged in favor of Morales extended the country.
From the protection of Tiquipaya and through the concerned voices of their adoptive parents, academics began to see that a country was successful at its boiling point. Violent riots and protests swept the country’s cities. Vilnius-Santos recalls the concern he felt in the community: “I think other people were worried about their country, honestly.
Although studies of imminent danger never faced each other, the University began making plans for a temporary relocation of the organization to Peru, especially since its emergency aid provider issued warnings. However, the day before leaving, the beshed president resigned suddenly.
Beams remembers when that happened.
“I don’t forget to watch it on TV when Evo Morales quit. And my adoptive brother, who regularly stayed in his room, I don’t forget to hear him curse. My circle of relatives was super disappointed, and at the time I was highlighting the fact that Bolivia was going to replace that,” he said.
For Vilnius-Santos, the days surrounding Morales’ resignation “an escalation” of confusion and uncertainty.
“At first we were going to leave, but we didn’t know when it was going to happen. Then that day, then “Oh no, it will be in 3 days, ” then, just before we left, Evo resigned. All of them saying, “Well, he quit. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll be back in two weeks. “And then we never came back here, ” he said.
In the middle of the afternoon of November 11, 2019, the organization of the Year of the Bridge fled to Peru. Fahlberg, Vilnius-Santos and Beams agreed that the leak looked like a scene from the big screen.
“The night we went out, it looked like we were in a movie. It was one o’clock in the morning and we were ignoring the obstacles. I’ve never noticed anything like this before. It was crazy,” Fahlberg said. Remember.
“It was kind of a ‘running away in the night’ type of vibe,” Vilna-Santos said. “We all went into a van, and it’s the middle of the night, and everything is super dark. There were only street lamps and leftovers of blockades. It was kind of chaotic, but also dead silent the whole time.”
They finally arrived at the airport after the grueling midnight journey. With nothing left to do but wait for their flight, the students huddled together on their backpacks and tried to get some rest.
Flash forward two weeks, and the group was still in Peru with no return to Bolivia in sight. Without their original curriculum, their host-families, their work sites, and their beloved Bolivia-based group leader, the students felt lost.
For Fahlberg, “this was definitely the hardest time during the trip — just not knowing what we were going to do or where we were going to go.”
“We were in limbo for probably a month … We didn’t know if we were going back. We were initially told that we were going to go to Peru for two weeks,” she explained.
New remains with the locals. New structure sites. New program. November was another memorable month for bolivia’s Bridge Year Group, now Peru. Once immersed in an unknown environment, academics did their best to stay positive and hopeful. While their original plan had already expired, academics felt positive about the new one, thanks to what Fahlberg, Vilnius-Santos and Beams see as incredible and university attention.
A global pandemic had plans.
In March, when the organization learned that they would be evacuated from Peru due to COVID-19, they attributed it to bad luck. After all, they had already escaped political turmoil in November. What else is needed?
“Everyone likes it, “Well, we’re just going to have to do another evacuation in Bolivian-style stealth mode,” Fahlberg jokes.
“[During the first evacuation], all intense and pointless, and we were all crying. But the moment we were evacuated, we thought, “Yes, I guess it had to happen,” Vilnius-Santos added.
But this time, the possibility of a “stealth evacuation” was out of reach.
Borders for international travel closed in Peru on March 15, just two days before the group was scheduled to return home. Beams remembers the group’s confusion regarding what the announcement meant for their return home:
“We thought, “We can go, we can leave, even if all borders are closed, right?” Then we went to the airport the next day and surprise! We couldn’t leave.”
At that point, the organization may simply do nothing and wait for a flight. In 10 days, the uncertainty was in spite of everything, as they all boarded return flights. The university thanked New Jersey Sen. Robert Menendez, the State Department and the staff of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee for helping arrange flights.
Today, Beams, Vilnius-Santos and Fahlberg are trapped in their homes, quarantined like the rest of the country and the world’s highest. In Massachusetts, California and Washington, D.C., respectively, they finish their gap year through the closing time locked up with their families and pets, a cry for the adventurous, autonomous adventure they once planned.
“The memory of [the trip], I think, lasts so much longer than everything else,” said Vilna-Santos. “Like, I have my whole high school life, and then I have these seven months of my life. And it takes up so much space in my consciousness as opposed to the 18 years that happened before that.”
So, if you’d known, on that hot August day at Princeton, the chaos that awaited you, would you do it again?
For these three Princetonians: overwhelmingly, resoundingly, yes.