Victoria Buitron, Founder of Latinas Who Hike
As a first-generation Ecuadorian American who came of age in Milagro, Ecuador, Victoria Buitron is no stranger to culture shock and repatriation — two things she details in her upcoming memoir, A Body Across Two Hemispheres.
“It’s scary to be vulnerable,” says Victoria of the writing process, adding: “But when I was younger it was difficult to find memoirs by Ecuadorian or Ecuadorian American writers … I wanted to write about where I grew up because I felt like there was a lack of it when I was a kid and adolescent. And if that means getting personal, so be it!”
In addition to her writing career, the author runs Latinas Who Hike, a community for those who identify as Latinx and have an interest in the outdoors. It’s a safe space that connects individuals who crave the inclusivity and comfort that is often achieved when you’re with tu gente — like-minded people you can relate to. It’s a connection that can’t be easily replicated, but one Victoria aims to immortalize with every one of her ventures.
Keep reading to learn more about this mujer de magia’s journey, on and off the trail.
Grace Gavilanes: What inspired you to start Latinas Who Hike? You’re doing such great work!
Victoria Buitron: Thank you so much! I appreciate it. Some years ago I got bored going on hikes all by myself. I also, at times, didn’t feel quite comfortable in the all-white outdoor spaces that I would routinely come across around Connecticut. A friend of mine described it in the best way possible by saying that instead of asking for space at the table, I went outside, chopped up some wood and made my own table. I began hosting monthly hikes around the tristate area in the northeast through Latinas Who Hike. Some days about five or ten people joined the hikes and on others we had close to thirty individuals. While I always say that anyone can join our hikes, it’s my goal to always make the hikes comfortable for the Latinx community, especially women. I want people not to be afraid to ask questions about the outdoors. On many occasions, people who don’t usually venture outdoors have mentioned they’ve felt intimidated or looked down on because they’re newbies. It’s important for me to show them that no question is off limits or embarrassing.
Right now the ultimate goal is to start monthly hikes again! Our last one was in the state of New York on March 1, 2020 and it seems like each time I’ve decided to plan the comeback, a new COVID variant comes along.
GG: You’re also an accomplished writer. How has your background and upbringing influenced your writing?
VB: I tend to focus on stories about family, loss, coming-of-age moments, belonging, and the body. There were a lot of things that felt taboo when I was growing up and I wanted to push back against that, and writing about it felt the most natural way to bring it to the fore. While most of my teenage years were spent in Ecuador, I felt like my family was much at odds with the surrounding culture. My parents were and continue to be liberal, and when I was growing up we would talk about religion, sex, family secrets, and so much more. But then I realized that beyond my immediate family that wasn’t common. In a way, my mother and father gave me the confidence to write about whatever I wanted, even the painful aspects of my life. And from another standpoint, I wanted to show that we can dismantle the reason why something is taboo to show younger generations that they can ask questions about their family, bodies, and sex — and not feel shamed.
GG: Tell us about your upcoming memoir. How do you feel about something so personal getting published?
VB: A Body Across Two Hemispheres is a memoir in essays and it begins when I am 15 years old in my hometown of Milagro, Ecuador. I lived in the United States for a decade before that. It’s about culture shock. Family ties. Family ruptures. Immigration and repatriation. Surviving as a teenager in a different country and learning to use a language I wasn’t accustomed to beyond the walls of my home. I believe the book is for anyone, whether you’ve migrated to another country or haven’t left your hometown.
It’s scary to be vulnerable. But when I was younger it was difficult to find memoirs by Ecuadorian or Ecuadorian American writers. Or what I did find about Ecuador was written by white people who had visited the country. I wanted to write about where I grew up because I felt like there was a lack of it when I was a kid and adolescent. And if that means getting personal, so be it!
GG: Speaking from personal experience, as a first-generation Ecuadorian American, it was scary telling my family I wanted to write for a living. What was that experience like for you?
VB: My parents have always been supportive. I remember a very specific moment when I was in high school in Ecuador. In that time, you had to pick a general major and the choices were FIMA (math and physics), QUIBIO (chemistry and biology), Computer Sciences, and Social Studies. I chose Social Studies because I hated math or anything that mixed letters and numbers together. There was an uproar in my extended family, and one of my uncles told my father that only “lazy people” signed up for this major. My father made it clear to him and everyone else that they would support me no matter what I chose — that the important thing was that I was happy with my choice. My parents and I don’t always see eye to eye or agree on everything, but they have always respected what I’ve chosen to do in regards to school and my professional life. When it came to writing my memoir, they sat down and answered the questions I had for them, and I’m very grateful for that.
““Whenever I think: Do I deserve this? Am I good enough? I focus on all the challenges in the road ahead of me, actual gatekeepers and people who would love to say no to me, and what would be the point of slowing myself down?””
GG: What would you tell 13-year-old Victoria right now if you had the opportunity?
VB: Don’t ever feel like you can’t ask for help. Maybe it’s due to my personality, because I’m a Cancer sign, or even the moves throughout my life, but I’ve always drawn myself inward. I keep a lot to myself or stay quiet, and when I was a teen, it hindered me more than helped. Reaching out and asking for help can at times be interpreted as a sign of gullibility or weakness, and I wish that I could have told younger me that’s not the case.
GG: Imposter syndrome is a very real thing in our community. Have you experienced it?
VB: I have and it’s dreadful. I was recently interviewed by Rubén Mendive for the La Lista Podcast. He mentioned that a writer once said that they are no longer standing in the way of themselves when those intrusive imposter syndrome thoughts appear. And that has now stuck with me. I’m not going to stand in the way of myself. Whenever I think: Do I deserve this? Am I good enough? I focus on all the challenges in the road ahead of me, actual gatekeepers and people who would love to say no to me, and what would be the point of slowing myself down? Now I do my best to view that voice of doubt as a self-deprecating doppelgänger who needs to be vanished every time she pops up.
GG: What advice would you give to someone hoping to follow a similar career path?
VB: This is such a hard question to answer because before I became a nonfiction writer I was, and continue to be, a translator. When I returned to the United States in 2012, I didn’t have much money and transferred my college credits to Hunter College CUNY. I got a Bachelor’s in Translation and Interpretation and some years later got an MFA in Creative Writing. But in the meantime, I babysat, housesat, dogsat, tutored, chauffeured and so much more to save up money and buy a house. So I became a nonfiction writer, in all honesty, not thinking about the money. This was mainly because I was in a good financial position as a translator and editor by the time I started focusing on writing the essays for my book. I had the benefit of letting my creativity flourish while not worrying about the financial aspect. In other words, my path was not “graduate from high school, major in literature in college, and then work in the publishing industry.”
I think that the best bet is to talk to different writers and figure out the niche that you would like to focus on. My path to book publishing might not be the path that others have taken, and there’s nothing wrong with that. What I can say to everyone, no matter the age or genre of writing, is that it’s never too late to start. If you want to be a writer the first step is to get a journal, a pen, and begin writing.
GG: What does being Latina mean to you?
VB: Before categorizing myself as a Latina, I consider myself to be first and foremost an Ecuadorian. The coastal accent, the warmth of my hometown, the country’s food, and so much of the culture make up a lot of who I am. I use the term “Latina” more within the framework of a resident from the Americas who uses Spanish as a language. By creating Latinas Who Hike, I wanted to create a space where Latinx people — Latinas, Latinos, and Latines — could feel welcome and at ease. During the meets, there have been many people I’ve met who felt like they couldn’t ask questions about hiking in Spanish. Hiking and switching between languages while doing something fun, and making space for others to feel comfortable is what allows me to connect with other Latinx individuals. Fomenting that connection is exactly when I feel like a proud Latina.
