No one but a non-rev would have taken this trip. Going to Uruguay for the weekend is one of those things you just have to mention to your non-travel buddies, responding nonchalantly to the question "What did you do this weekend?" with "Oh, I went to Uruguay." (For the record, the desired effect is awe, not pity, but you have to take what you can get.)

Yes, we flew to Uruguay (south of Brazil - I know, I needed help too) for just 48 hours. We spent almost that much time flying - overnight Friday and overnight into Monday. If it was up to me, we would have planned a slightly longer trip, but these spontaneous, jam-packed experiences are part of the reason we love to non-rev. (Non-revving means flying standby, trying to get those empty seats on flights that would otherwise not be filled. If there are no seats free, we don't fly.)

We went as part of a group aided by a local charity Quinta Terra, for the purpose of delivering medical and school supplies, books, clothing, and so on that had been collected by American Airlines employees. Clint and I jumped at the chance to do something so different while also getting a much closer look at poverty in foreign countries. If we planned a trip to Uruguay on our own, we would never get to go inside the group home for girls, or the tiny clinic, or the preschool. We were looking for something deeper than standard tourism.

Well, I must admit, we were somewhat disappointed. Yes, we were able to see these facilities for ourselves and try to imagine what it must be like to lack basic supplies like soap or tennis shoes. Two places we visited, Portal Amarillo (a youth rehab center) and Hogar Margarita (a group home for girls), did try to share with us some of the problems they face. Learning about a new type of drug that has ruined young lives and meeting girls who have literally nowhere else to go was eye-opening to say the least. Most of these kids were thrilled to have someone different to interact with. (Though informative, these experiences were not planned by our group, but by eager directors of those places.)

On the other hand, one thing we feared came true - we ended up feeling like were were coming across as very self-righteous, "blessing" these poor people with our goodness. Before we agreed to come on the trip, I suggested to Clint that the idea felt very uncomfortable to me - the only reason I was going was to witness people accepting donations. We weren't going to learn about the programs or meet the workers or, especially, to help out in some way other than just unloading supplies. If I wasn't there, the trip would have happened in exactly the same way. It did end up feeling self-congratulatory, because several of the places we visited we learned nothing about, and I fear we gave the impression that we did not care about their facilities. And, since time was limited, I tried to experience Uruguay through the window as we drove from place to place - observing the trash strewn everywhere, the decrepit buildings, and, surprisingly, the wide smiles on many faces. Several times, however, I was asked if I was upset or tired, because I wasn't talking much. No, I just don't want to be one of those Americans who don't look out the window at all. I just don't want to be someone looking at an experience from my own perspective ("This is a great photo!") rather than someone else's ("Tell me what your day is like.").

I don't really feel like we left knowing anything more about Uruguay than when we started. For us, anyway, that was the idea, and in our opinion, missed.