The Etalia Project

I first met Ruth on a stroll near my hostel in a rougher neighborhood of La Paz by the bus terminal. Leaning out the window of her shop, she called out with a smile and waved me over. I wasn’t wanting for anything, but a warm reception on a dry, cool street was more welcome than she knew, and I was quick to follow her call. Our conversation quickly blossomed, and I ended up lingering there with her for enough time to witness the comings and goings of various customers.

Each time, Ruth politely excused herself from our conversation and turned to them with a uniform enthusiasm from which she never seemed to tire. Once they’d leave, she’d pick up exactly where she’d left off in her last story like a movie watcher plopping back onto the couch and pressing play. To say she was eager to chat would be an understatement, her story came cascading from her lips and misting down upon her one woman audience like a torrent after the rain. I soaked up as much as I could there and then, but told her I’d have to come back to interview her officially.

Ruth is middle-aged and was born in La Paz where she has lived out all her days. At age 18 she gave birth to her first and only son, whom she raised as a single mother. Ruth held her son to a strict standard, buttressing the responsibility to bring up an independent man on her own by obliging him to help; he spent many an afternoon in the shop. He is now 25 years old and a graduate of business currently finishing up his thesis.

Ruth herself pursued two degrees in university, first attaining a degree in nursing, and then going on to study pharmacy which she just fell short of completing. But Ruth’s career path was rocked off course with the diagnosis of systemic lupus erythematosus, an autoimmune disease that prevented her from safely being able to care for others in the hospital because of her own susceptibility to their very illnesses.

While managing the symptoms of her new reality, including the realization of inflammatory arthritis in her knee that currently warrants both a limp and a surgery she cannot afford, Ruth found a new course forward in the field of her unfinished degree. She opened a neighborhood store where she works Monday through Saturday, and secured a position as an unofficial pharmacist on the weekends. 

Her passion for healthcare is evident, as intermittently throughout her many stories of ex boyfriends, international friends, concerts, and chisme, her eyes float up to the sky as she recalls obscure medicinal cures for illnesses these characters contracted along the way. When I went to visit her for the last time before leaving, she was quick to notice the sunburn on my forehead and immediately offered three distinct remedies and nearly forced me to let her accompany me to the market to buy them. 

Ruth longs for friendship and connection, even more than she wants for her surgery. She spends each of her long days focusing on helping others with the skill which sadly she was not able to refine professionally, when she could easily be caught up in her own plight. Her eyes twinkle as she smiles, and she is quick to a girlish giggle. She spent several minutes curling her hair and doing her makeup before our interview, insisting on being done up before filming, but I already found her beauty to be so radiant that I could hardly wait to capture her on camera.

Ruth’s wish for the world is for people across the globe to choose faith over materialism, and fortify their values rather than burying their heads in the prospects of money. 

Ruth was my very first hello in the overwhelm of La Paz, and my very last goodbye in the anguish of leaving a city that had snuck its way into my heart. If her story has touched a part of you, and you feel inspired to donate to her cause of knee surgery, please don’t hesitate to reach out.

Thank you Ruth, for sharing your story /// Gracias Ruth, por compartir tu historia.

Watch the full interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_iAIWdMkBE&t=2s