Imagine a volunteering gig where your only job is to spend your days hanging out with a couple good friends while walking a cute and cuddly dog through the Bolivian jungle. "Sounds great, sign me up!" you say?  Not so fast... replace that cuddly dog with Balu, a fully-grown male Andean bear with a serious addiction to coca leaves and backpacks.  Next, swap those good friends with a couple dudes you've just met, neither of which are in any way qualified to be working with a bear. Finally, factor in Balu's cunning and constant desire to catch you and engage in a very one-sided wrestling match.  Still sound like fun?  Glad to see that great minds think alike!

Before you slip into your rubber boots and plunge headfirst into the jungle, check out the following survival tips: 

You and your two newly met teammates are about to release a three-hundred pound bear from his reinforced steel and brick enclosure with nothing but a ten meter rope and a backpack full of peanuts, fruit, and a quadruple-sealed bag of coca leaves (only to be used in SERIOUS emergencies) to keep him under control.  Such a feat requires either nerves of steel or, more likely, blissful ignorance.  Take things one day at a time, and keep in mind that in his eight years at Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi, a wildlife refuge in Bolivia, Balu's never injured a volunteer to the point of needing stitches (the same can’t be said for a few unlucky coca-fueled construction workers).

Balu is quite playful, and one of his favourite games is trying to catch his volunteers (just to play, don't worry...?). He's also smarter than he looks, and will try to catch you off guard with a surprise sprint forward, a quick run back, or, on his more devious days, a surprise sprint forward followed by a quick run back (a combo which can catch even the most careful of volunteers off guard).  Whether Balu's simply feeling playful or, god forbid, angry or frustrated, and despite everyone's insistence that he won't do any serious harm, you DO NOT want to get caught. Although Balu's likely to catch you at least once over the course of your month-long volunteering gig, do your best to avoid this, as it's pants-shittingly terrifying and will likely leave your favourite jungle wardrobe torn to shreds.

Some things to keep in mind in order to avoid Balu's rib-crushing bear hug: 

1) Keep your distance. Although Balu can outrun you with enough motivation, he’s rather lazy and a bit overweight, and so will only try to catch you if it won't leave him out of breath.  Maintain a reasonable distance and you should be safe.

My job for the month at Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi (CIWY) was to walk with Tigre (with her because she leads) in the jungle every day. Before starting my first day I was told that Tigre doesn't take trails, is very energetic, hunts and typically gets her handlers lost in the jungle overnight at least once during their stay. I was also warned how violent she can be.  On the day that we arrived, the girl who was currently training to walk with Tigre was attacked pretty badly (stitches on her arms and possibly other places, I didn't really want to know more).  Alarm bells started ringing in my head but something inside me told me this is something I had to do.  Walking alone in the jungle with a wild cat has been a fantasy of mine for about for as long as I can remember, and only now have I realized that it is something I will really be able to do!

I wish someone had told me how gentle and patient Tigre can be, because this is the Tigre I soon got to know and love.  From the moment we arrived at CIWY all I heard were horror stories about how violent she is and how other volunteers had gotten lost in the jungle overnight because of her. Still, it wasn't until I began to work with her that my subconscious fears began to surface to the point that I nearly gave up.  I had imagined a much more relaxed experience. Naive, I now know.

We first read about Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi (CIWY) in a guest book at cozy coffee shop in Copacabana about a week before we decided to go there.  We were on the lookout for some sort of volunteer gig, but weren't terribly inspired by the various organic farming options we'd found online. Although it wasn't something we'd really considered, we jumped at the idea of working with jungle animals!

Looking into the organization further we were touched by the story of how a Bolivian couple in the late 1980's, in the hopes of making a difference in Bolivia, established a school of alternative education outside of La Paz for the many children of miners who had relocated to the area. After being exposed to the lush surrounding rainforest and its ruthless destruction, the children vowed to protect the fragile rainforest and its animals through a campaign of education and awareness.  During a later field trip to Rurrenabaque, the project took an important shift after the kids pooled together their meagre funds to purchase and rescue a spider monkey from its local owners who were forcing it to drink alcohol and dance for their amusement.  Over the next few years, a number of other animals were adopted and rescued, despite the constant struggle to figure out what to do with them. Finally, Parque Machia, the first wildlife refuge in Bolivia, was established.

For nearly 20 years now, professionals and volunteers from all over the world have been supporting this cause through the raising of funds and the donating of time.  The organization now manages three parks in Bolivia where upwards of 500 animals of over 30 different species (including bears, cats, birds, monkeys, coatis, and foxes) are cared for.  

A few days after reading the guest book in Copacabana we saw a poster for CIWY at our hostel in La Paz, and soon after ran into a guy who knew a guy who had volunteered with them and spent a month walking a puma.  By then the seed of the idea had sprouted and taken root, and we found ourselves packing our bags.  After a long day of bussing through Cochabamba and beyond, we arrived in Villa Tunari late in the evening and crawled to the closest hostel to hide from the torrential downpour that welcomed us.  In the morning we walked across the bridge looking for the CIWY office, only to walk right past it.  It was not marked well and looked more like an abandoned concrete structure with graffiti all over it.

We were quick to forgive the outer appearance of the office after being hailed by other volunteers watching from the cafe.  On the inside, the place was humming with activity: volunteers chopping food for the monkeys, hauling hay and trees for the cats and bear, unloading endless truckloads of bananas, and disposing of bucketfuls of animal waste.  Everyone looked very enthusiastic!  

For the next four weeks we’ll be volunteering at a wildlife reserve called Inti Wara Yassi in the small town of Villa Tunari in Bolivia.  Only in Bolivia (or another developing country, I suppose) could a place like this exist, where unqualified but willing volunteers can, after only a short lesson from other volunteers, work with and handle wild animals.  We arrive partway through the workday and kill some time in the outdoor cafeteria where breakfasts, lunches, and after work beers are available.  While surveying our new surroundings, we take in the graffiti from past volunteers which covers the nearby walls, including things like “Tigre the Lostalot Ocelot”, “Quaranteam 2013”, “Monkey Love”, “small (but vicious) animals”, and “Badass Balu”, and wonder what we’re about to get ourselves into. 

As the workday wraps up and the volunteers straggle into the café, we strike up a conversation hoping to learn more about the volunteer experience.  A couple realities quickly sink in: there will be a lot of dealing with poop, and, at some point, we’re likely to pick up a minor wound (making for an interesting scar story once we’re back at home).  One of the volunteers, a skinny redhead from Australia, eagerly describes his latest encounter with a fox while working in the small animal section.  While attempting to get a collar around the fox’s neck (after days in a cage, he figured it would enjoy a nice walk), the fox decided it didn’t like what was going on.  After a couple quick bites to the shin (through a rubber boot), the fox clamped its jaws on the aussie’s forearm and hung on for dear life.  No lasting damage was done, and we’re assured that the on-site vets are very skilled at stitching up both animals and humans.

Finally, 4:30 rolls around and we’re led on a quick tour of the facilities which include: quarantine, containing about eighty capuchin monkeys, some in cages and some tied up on runners (not to mention the dozen or more wild ones that hang out hoping to snag food from the residents); the aviary, where macaws, toucans, and parrots are guarded from hungry wild monkeys by a well-trained dog; and a sizeable area for land and water turtles.  We´re also told about other areas in which a number of coatis, two ocelots, one puma, and an Andean bear are kept (but which aren´t included in the express tour).  We are then sat down and asked by Marta, the volunteer coordinator, to fill out a survey (along with a hefty waiver form) as well as some extra questions to help figure out which section we belong in.  Chelsea’s asked if she has a good sense of direction, to which she replies yes, and I’m asked if I can handle running through the jungle with my glasses on, to which I explain that I can wear contact lenses if necessary.  We’re then shown to the closet of second-hand clothing so we can pick up something we won’t mind destroying over the next weeks.  Finally, we gather in the office and are given our assignments: Chelsea is to work with Tigre the Ocelot (a lucky opening since the current volunteer, just that afternoon, was jumped and received a decent scratch on her arm) and I’m to spend my first few days in quarantine, after which I’ll be working with Balu, the fully-grown Andean bear.