Justina Khalil, Honours Bachelors of Social Sciences in Political Science, 4th year
Internship country: Bolivia
Canadian NGO: CECI
Local NGO: Casa de la Mujer
My time in Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia has surprised me in many ways. Going into this internship abroad, I tried to keep two reminders in mind: have no expectations and have a support system. Still, throughout this experience there has been a constant tug and pull between hope and despair. Before leaving for Bolivia, a friend told me that I may become “someone’s answered prayer.” While that is a heavy idea to carry, those words stayed with me because I genuinely believe we all have a responsibility to provide some kind of service or support to others.
During this journey, I have met and connected with many incredible people. However, one person in particular has stayed with me. I met a young woman, whom I will call Maria to protect her privacy, through a workshop I held at Casa de la Mujer, the grassroots organization where I am interning. I later asked Maria if she would be willing to participate in an interview centered around an “historia de cambio,” or story of change, because I wanted to better understand the lived experiences of someone who grew up here in Bolivia.
Not only did she agree, but she also invited me into her home to share dinner with her family. Sitting there with people I had only just met, eating homemade food and listening to conversations stretch late into the evening, gave me a deeper understanding of the relational and community-oriented nature of life here. The atmosphere was lively, warm, and welcoming. It reminded me how much learning during international experiences happens outside of formal workplaces. Some of the most meaningful lessons I gained in Bolivia did not come from reports, workshops, or meetings, but from simple moments of human connection.
The interview itself took place in one of the quieter rooms at Casa de la Mujer. At first, the conversation was light. We spoke about family, forgiveness, and the values she grew up with. Maria described her family as affectionate and deeply connected, explaining that her father taught her and her brothers the importance of respect, sincerity, and forgiveness. Yet despite the warmth she described, it quickly became clear that her life had also been shaped by hardship from a very young age.
As the interview progressed, Maria opened up about experiences she had rarely spoken about before. She explained that when she was around thirteen years old, while her mother was ill and her father was often working, she entered a relationship with an older boy. What she described was not love, but manipulation and emotional abuse. She spoke about feeling lonely, vulnerable, and too afraid to tell anyone what was happening. Listening to her describe these moments was difficult, not only because of how young she was, but because many aspects of her story reflected broader realities faced by young women globally.
Although Bolivia and Canada differ socially, economically, and culturally, many of the struggles women face remain painfully universal. The details may change, but the underlying dynamics of machismo, control, insecurity, and gender inequality often remain the same. Hearing Maria speak reminded me that issues frequently discussed in classrooms or academic literature are deeply human in practice. Concepts such as gender-based violence or structural inequality can sometimes feel abstract within academic settings, but sitting across from someone sharing how those realities shaped her own life transforms theory into something immediate and personal.
One of the most striking parts of our conversation was hearing Maria describe how Casa de la Mujer influenced the trajectory of her life. Through workshops centered on self-love, self-care, and healthy relationships, she slowly began recognizing the toxicity of the relationship she was in. What stayed with me most was how she described this realization not as one dramatic turning point, but as a gradual process of “opening her eyes little by little.” That phrasing felt powerful because it reflects the reality of many emotionally abusive situations: awareness itself often takes time.
At fifteen years old, Maria made the decision to leave the relationship behind. She described realizing that if she stayed, she would sacrifice her dreams and remain confined to a future that no longer reflected the life she wanted for herself. Instead, she chose something different. Today, she studies human rights and hopes to become a criminal lawyer focused on defending women experiencing violence and injustice.
There was something incredibly moving about hearing someone so young speak with such clarity and conviction about wanting to protect others. Maria explained that she wants to intervene before situations escalate further, helping women before they reach the point of crisis. In many ways, her story reflects the importance of grassroots organizations such as Casa de la Mujer. Their work goes beyond providing services; they create spaces where women can recognize their value, rebuild confidence, and reclaim agency over their lives.
Another part of the interview that deeply impacted me was when Maria shared the story of a woman from her neighborhood who was eventually killed by her partner after struggling to access meaningful support. She spoke about the trauma this left not only on the victim’s child, but on the entire community. Hearing her recount this story made it clear why she feels so strongly about pursuing advocacy and legal work. For Maria, human rights are not simply theoretical principles. They are tied to real people, real violence, and real consequences.
At the same time, despite everything she had experienced, Maria carried herself with remarkable optimism. What struck me most was not only her resilience, but her refusal to allow her experiences to harden her. She still spoke with warmth, humor, ambition, and hope for the future. In many ways, she embodied the very message organizations like Casa de la Mujer seek to foster: women are not defined solely by what they endure, but also by their ability to reclaim agency over their lives.
As my time in Bolivia nears its end, I can honestly say I am not ready to leave. This experience has challenged me emotionally, academically, and personally in ways I did not anticipate. Yet it has also reaffirmed the importance of remaining curious, open, and adaptable. Had I not stepped outside of my comfort zone, I never would have formed the connection I did with Maria or learned from her story in the way that I did.
A lot of what I learned in Bolivia did not come directly from the work itself, but through the people and relationships I built along the way. Maria managed to overcome many obstacles while still maintaining empathy, optimism, and ambition. Rather than allowing difficult experiences to define her, she transformed them into motivation to advocate for others.
If there is one lesson I will carry with me from this experience, it is that meaningful change often begins with human connection. Sometimes the most impactful thing we can do is listen to another person’s story, learn from it, and allow it to change the way we see the world. Let us all be a little more like Maria.