Minneapolis to Bolivia

Good Bye Santa Cruz

2009-08-14T15:54:00.004-04:00

I´ve said my goodbyes and now I´m packing my suitcase and getting on the plane. By tomorrow morning I´ll be in Chicago.

There isn´t much left to say except, check out me and Grandpa Hugo on the dance floor last night! The tango king himself. He has moves that can rival Eric Matzke´s.

Hermana Nelida

2009-08-14T07:29:00.003-04:00

Hermana Nelida, one of the women who had worked at Alalay for 10 years as a live in mother, died of a heart attack yesterday morning. She had 5 children of her own yet she gave so much love and care to the kids of Alalay. As part of her job she would spend three days living at the orphanage and then three days living at her own home. Those who knew her best were devastated yesterday when they found out.

The first time I met Hermana Nelida was in a park when she came to rescue me from one of the kids. Hermana Reisa and I had brought the kids to the park to play for the morning. As lunch time rolled around we told the kids that it was time to stop playing and go home. Everyone reluctantly agreed, except little Jon. A few minutes before one of the girls had thrown sand at John and so he shut down and went into one of his temper tantrums. He refused to come with us so I told Reisa to take the rest of the kids home and I would cajole John out from under the play equipment.

Forty-five minutes later I was hungry, a little crabby, and still sitting with Jon. I had tried everything I could think of. Sweet Kari, mean Kari, amiga Kari, pretending to walk away and leave him alone, luring him out with candy, trying to chase him down. Nothing worked.

Finally, Hermana Nelida came walking into the park looking for us. When she saw Jon under the play equipment she simply said a few comforting words and Jon was back to his old giggly happy self again. She took his hand and we walked back home again. The whole way she kept telling John how worried she was about him and how when we got back to the house she would reprimand the other girls. In my stunned state all I could do was mouth a silent thanks to her.

The kids loved her and she was a great teacher and mom. Today I will head back to Alalay for the morning to spend few more hours with the girls. I didn´t think it was right that they lose two hermanas on the same day.

Goodbye

2009-08-13T07:58:00.003-04:00

Today is my last day working at Alalay and ASOCRUZ and tonight is my going away dinner at home.

My mind had been brewing non-stop this week and now it seems to be calm and quiet. I had been so ready for this day and now I´m not feeling much of anything. Almost a sickening amount of nothing.

I can´t seem to grab onto anything substantial to write. Hopefully, I´ll have more perspective tomorrow morning.

Day Dreaming

2009-08-12T07:31:00.003-04:00

There seems to be a few specific images that pop into my mind throughout the day to keep me warm and happy. I´m not sure why my mind repeatedly recalls these three images, but several times a day my mind is pulled to these faraway, often long ago memories.

Running down a worn dirt path that cuts through a field for night swimming in the River Sesupe. Staring at the bright night sky littered with stars while still trying to dodge cow patties in my swimsuit and flip flops. The warm summer night air in my hair and the outlines of old friends and new friends and family emerging in the darkness ahead.

Standing in the pews of a dark church lit by nothing but the lights on a Christmas tree and hundreds of candles. Joining in as Silent Night is sung in one unified voice that consumes my body and makes me weak. And then, after the music ends and everyone shuffles out into the cold to make the slow quiet trip home, watching the dark silent snow fall and cover the city in clean white sheets.

Driving through central Wisconsin on cold fall day watching the bright gold and red and orange leaves climb up the sides of the steep hills in the distance. The harvested and dormant fields stretching for miles on each side of the straight, unwavering, deserted road. Inhaling the first signs of winter with each breath of chilly air.

My story is this:

2009-08-09T13:19:00.004-04:00

I´ve spent nine weeks living at a small white house with green fencing on calle Tte. Roca Peirano.

I´ve been welcomed into a family as a granddaughter, daughter, and sister.

I´ve celebrated 4 birthdays, 1 fiesta, and an independence day.

I´ve lost 2 watches, 1 glasses case, and a SIGG water bottle. I´ve stolen one Paceña beer glass.

I´ve slept next to cockroaches and lizards and I´ve eaten cow tongue, intestine, udder, and blood.

I´ve gained the bravery to dart across busy 12 lane highways.

I´ve spent weekends wandering through the complicated maze of markets and along narrow paths in towering cemeteries.

I´ve wandered the streets of Cochabamba alone and scared.

I´ve sat at the edge of a crowd watching miles of dancers stream by moving to the sounds of beating drums.

I´ve become connected to the happiness and difficult stories of 20 girls and 1 boy.

I´ve watched kids who have experienced terrible things learn how to be kids again.

I´ve spent afternoons in silence teaching with nothing but my hands.

I´ve spent two months communicating in three languages, often confusing one for another.

I´ve seen men without legs sit in the middle of busy streets begging for money. And I´ve seen children hollow from a life outside dancing for tourist money.

I´ve heard the stories of families unable to visit loved ones in the United States and I´ve listened as friends have plead for me to help them find jobs.

I´ve put up with catcalls and harassment and at times I´ve worried about my safety. I´ve been forced indoors and into taxis after the sun sets for fear of taking micros or walking alone.

I´ve seen strong mothers and strong women live difficult lives. I´ve seen women three times my age hauling heavy loads of fruit strapped in blankets on their backs. And I´ve seen calm mothers breastfeed their infants while being tossed about on micros.

I´ve amassed hours thinking about smells and feelings and places that I miss and are so far away.

I´m ready to come home.

Felicidades!

2009-08-07T17:06:00.007-04:00

August 6th was Bolivia´s Independence Day. Cruceños never pass up an opportunity to march and dance in costume. So naturally, at ASOCRUZ, they put me in a dress and made me dance with my students in front of a bunch of parents. Thank god Kattia was able to attend to take photos otherwise this would have been one for the memories.

I love her style. She didn´t crack a smile the whole time.

Marching in with the flags.

Javier, Profesora Kari, Stefani, Profesora Mabel, Marco after our big dance.

P.S. Happy Birthday to both my Bolivian mom and my American mom!

Nayely

2009-08-07T08:48:00.005-04:00

I didn´t come to Bolivia to work with orphans, I came to Bolivia to work with deaf students. But through the unpredictable nature of life, I ended up with a month of swine flu vacation and no deaf students. So in comes Alalay and Nayely (pronounced Nah-yell-e).

Nayely is the youngest at Alalay. She and her brother had been living with their drug addicted mother on the streets only a month ago. There is no way to know her age, or birthday, or even last name. I would guess that she is 3 or 4 years old, but it´s hard to tell because she is so small.

When I started at Alalay I was surprised at how much the kids wanted to be held. But not Nayely. Nayely hid behind the other adults, quickly looking away if we made eye contact and cringing if I touched her hair or brushed her arm.

It took me 2 weeks to finally break through to her. Although, I doubt I can claim victory for it. I think that Nayely, just changed her mind about me.

Now, I can´t get her off of me. We play all morning long. I hold her tiny body up in the air as she giggles and screams. I brush her hair and tickle her arms to which she says in a very mature yet high-pitched voice, ¨Hermana!¨. I help her hand-wash her clothes and encourage her to keep eating at lunch. I love that girl so much.

The cruelty of life breaks my heart. I was given the desire and ability and opportunity to visit her. I was given the power to step into her broken life for a month and then walk right out of it again.

Leaving behind Nayely, Jon, Rebeca, Noemi, Lorena, and sweet Rosalia might be the meanest most self-centered thing I´ve ever done.

RIP

2009-08-03T08:35:00.003-04:00

My camera is dead.

We had a good run together but I guess this trip was just a little too much for her. She was only three years old but together we climbed Machu Picchu, spent a month on the beaches of Mexico, saw the Spice girls in concert, captured Christmases and birthday and in-between days.

She took the first images of my new short haircut and was there to photograph my blister the size of a grape after I bought new sandals. We witnessed Barack Obama declaring himself the Democratic nominee on my birthday and she was my only companion when I was lonely in Cochabamba. This whole month she has had a well-worn spot at the bottom of my bag as I took the Micro to Alalay each morning.

She weathered the years well. Even after the screen went out after New Years Eve in Mexico she still took pictures for another 7 months before finally puttering out. Her dedication to her family and friends, her contributions to the field of photographing my life, and her commitment to her community will not be forgotten.

Since cameras are one of the few things that are more expensive to buy here than in the U.S. (and I´m outta cash) I guess we´re all going to have to endure the next two weeks without pictures. RIP.

Financial Planning

2009-08-01T11:12:00.003-04:00

It´s countdown time.

T-minus two weeks until my flight home. I talked to my mom yesterday who informed me that my bank account is officially out of money. That means that what I´ve got stashed in my underwear drawer is going to have to last me two weeks and a plane flight home.

So here is the breakdown:
After spending $3 USD on the 25 minute call to mom, I´ve got $351.50 Bolivianos (About $53 USD at a 7-1 exchange rate).

Subtracting $25 USD for the airport departure tax, $60 Bs. for the taxi ride to the airport, $60 Bs. for 4 micro rides/day for 2 weeks (to and from work) that leaves me with $76.50 Bs. or $11 USD for 2 weeks.

So here are the rules:
No morning Salteñas ($4 bs. each)
No taxi rides anywhere ($10 bs. each)
No phone calls home ($25 bs. each)
No buying books ($30 bs. each)
No ice cream cones ($7 bs. each)
No lavandería-I´ll have to hand wash my clothes ($30 bs./load)

I´m not sure where I´ll decide to spend my remaining $11 USD, but I´m gonna make it good.

Bad news for all friends and family. I´ve put off buying gifts until now. So don´t expect any Santa Cruz magnets or t-shirts. I´ve thought of a better idea anyway. Way cooler, trust me.

Momma Kari

2009-07-30T18:59:00.006-04:00

Working with six children all day long gives me a lot of opportunities to think about how to effectively raise kids. After about three weeks of non-stop thinking, I´ve got no clue. I still suck at it.

I made the decision about a week into my volunteer work at Alalay that I can´t get involved in everything. There is always someone yelling about something. Always. It´s too much work to stay on top of it all. So I decided to only focus on the important stuff. The stuff they really shouldn´t be doing.

So I save all my negative attention for: spitting, hitting, standing on the table, inflicting bodily harm, touching the oven, running into the street, damaging other´s possessions, etc. You get the idea.

Everything else I either let resolve itself, wait until another adult comes along, or distract them with something else (usually involving crayons or somethings brightly colored). I know that my methods are probably not that great for the long-term but I´ve got no better ideas at the moment and I can´t wear myself out each day by yelling. That´s not fun for me or the kids.

I find it challenging that I don´t have the power to actually enforce consequences (because I´m just a volunteer and in a few short hours I´ll be gone and they can go about doing whatever they want) and even if I did have the power, I probably wouldn´t be able to clearly communicate them to the kids in my broken Spanish.

The kids don´t have much consistency when it comes to discipline. They have two women who alternate spending nights and days with them as well as Marisol their psychologist and Patricia the head of the orphanage. Not to mention whichever volunteer(s), clergy, or staff might be in the home for the day. I would try talking to Patricia about it, but my Spanish still not quite to that level. (The other day I tried telling her that Nayerly is afraid of me - but I ended up saying ¨I´m not that into Nayerly¨)

So I´m opening it up to all of you. Give me your ideas. What should I try?

Falling Asleep

2009-07-29T18:48:00.003-04:00

I hate how little demons of my past taunt me at night while I lay in bed trying to fall asleep.

My thoughts can be so loud in the dark that it seems like the room is full of people. I think about the stupid mistakes I´ve made in the past and the people who I´ve let down or disappointed. I´m not sure how my mind decides which mistakes to recall each night. Usually they aren´t big and didn´t have terrible repercussions but my mind has a weird way of picking out the embarrassing moments for me to relive.

Last night I was thinking about my high school yearbook advisor who put so much trust in me and gave me privileges beyond the average student. I took advantage of his trust and I used his name to get myself out of trouble. I remember the day he quietly let me know that he was aware I was using his name and signature to skip classes. I was embarrassed at the time but not so much about what I did, but simply that I was caught doing it. Six years later I still can see his face and hear his voice and feel the shame of letting a respected friend and mentor down.

I am so far away from Green Bay but once the darkness hits my room I am taken back to mistakes I made so many years ago in a place thousands of miles away. I hope that the uncomfortable feelings these memories stir up serve as reminders so that my mistakes weren´t in vain. Maybe it´s somewhat calming that I still carry those lessons with me. That my mistakes served a purpose and that I remember that I´m not the same person who once made those decisions.

Blanchita!

2009-07-28T19:55:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I feel like I´m in a life-sized game of Where´s Waldo and I´m the Waldo.

Every so often someone will realize that I´m a gringa, a blanchita, or simply the American, and will point it out to me or to their friends. It´s like they are saying, ¨Look I found the Waldo!¨

The girls at Alalay were amazed one afternoon when they pulled back my shirt and saw my stomach. They let out gasps of, ¨Blanchita!¨ Like it was this dirty secret I had been hiding. I´m not sure how it slipped pass them. It´s not like I´ve gotten some amazing tan since I arrived. My stomach is about the same color as my arms and face.

Or at the La Paz fiesta when one of the actors playing a bull singled me out of the crowd and pretended to maul me while the crowd pointed and laughed at the gringa.

Or when a coworker realized I have green eyes and walked me around the house making sure everyone was aware and had a chance to stare.

Or when guys on the street see my white skin and mutter every English word they know.
Hello Beautiful.
How are you.
Where are you from?
Or my personal favorite, Suck my bloody cock bitch.
I´m not sure who is going around Santa Cruz teaching the boys English swear words, but when I find them I promise you that I´ll give them a good punch in the face.

It usually doesn´t get to me but it does make me want to try my hardest to fit in. To make all the right moves when I´m walking down the street or buying something in a market or riding a bus so that my actions look normal enough to cover the sometimes glaring difference my skin presents.

Cementerio Alemán

2009-07-26T18:17:00.005-04:00

I love the cemeteries here. There are long rows with towering stacks of caskets behind glass doors. Some are huge elaborate rooms that you can walk into and some are just white walls with names and dates of death.

Every Sunday families visit the graves of their loved ones. They clean out the fallen leaves, place huge bouquets of flowers, and light candles. It´s a calm place where I could sit for hours.

This is a sweet sign. It says, ¨Don´t steal, God is watching¨.

For Lindsay

2009-07-26T17:51:00.003-04:00

Straight from the Molina-Oblitas kitchen. Best eaten on cold rainy days or if you feel sick.

Arroz con Leche

Ingredients:
1 liter of milk
Cinnamon sticks
1 cup of rice
1 1/2 cup water
1/2 cup sugar

Directions:
Boil water and cinnamon sticks until cinnamon has turned to a different color (about 10 minutes). Wash rice and add to water. Cook until soft. Add a little water if the rice is drying out. When cooked, add milk and sugar. Stir until boiling. Serve with soft chunks of bread.

Note: For sweeter taste use condensed milk in addition to regular milk.

¡que huevada!

2009-07-24T20:59:00.003-04:00

My Spanish tutor taught me a little phrase, Que Huevada, it´s a swear word that translates to something like that person really sucks. It pretty adequately expresses my frustrations at my witch doctor from Boynton.

I got a bill from Boynton today for my travel clinic appointment a few months ago. The doctor told me to get a Yellow Fever vaccination, Tyhpoid pills, and Malaria medicine. She tried her hardest to up sell me for the Rabies shots too but I declined when I found out that they were practically as much as a semester of classes.

After getting stuck with needles and having psychotic dreams for the first month of my trip I found out that there is no Malaria problem in Santa Cruz during the winter season. It is so cold that there aren´t even any mosquitoes. In addition, no one cares if you´ve had a yellow fever vaccination. Not the airport officials, not my volunteer organization, I doubt even Evo Morales himself.

My medical bills were over $300 for the pills, shots, and consultation. The travel appointment alone was $150. Over a hundred dollars to be told what else I should spend money on. I´m a student, I don´t have a full time job, and I don´t have insurance. I have to pay for this entirely out of my own pocket.

The lesson I learned is that I should just save the money, do my own research, and avoid the travel clinic entirely. I understand her desire to be cautious but there is a limit to what is actually necessary.

On top of all of that, the travel abroad center required me to purchase 2 months of insurance for an additional $150. Total amount that I got ripped off for: $450.

It´s more than anyone in Bolivia has tricked me out of.

I´m Rocky

2009-07-24T01:05:00.000-04:00

I´m going all out. My stomach has proven it´s strength and it´s street food and tap water until August 14th.

I realized this week that the lemon-lime drink I´ve had each afternoon at Alalay is made with tap water. I´ve been consuming plenty of unboiled, unbottled water without a single problem.

My innards have proven their strength over the last month. I can handle anything.

So I´ve decided that nothing is gonna hold me back. There are delicious smelling foods on every street corner and in every market and there is no reason I shouldn´t be consuming them.

Chicharrón - fried pork
Mocachinchi - a dark brown drink with a shriveled peach at the bottom
Maracuya - sweet fruit.
I´m ready for it all.

So it´s official. Here is my first conscious glass of tap water. Everything else, here I come.

(Don´t worry mom. Of course I´ll still be somewhat cautious.)

Catching up

2009-07-23T21:37:00.007-04:00

Okay. I´ve been a bad blogger. I skipped a huge event.

Last weekend was the Celebración de La Paz. Since Kattia is a Paceña (originally from La Paz) the whole family went to the parade on Saturday to celebrate. The parade started at 3:00 in the afternoon but we didn´t arrive until 7:00 at night.

The streets were filled with people who had staked out chairs and been sitting watching the marchers and drinking Paceña (also means the beer of La Paz) for the entire day. If spectators stopped along the parade route and blocked the action the crowd would throw empty soda bottles at them and chant until they moved. It was a rowdy party and certainly not somewhere I would want to be at 4:00 in the morning (which is apparently when it finished).

Reisa and myself posing with Kattia´s sister Nina. Nina owns a dance studio in Santa Cruz that teaches folk dancing, tango, salsa, and ballet. Her class danced in the parade. You can see them in the blue and pink costumes in the background.

Some more pictures from the parade. Sorry that they are such bad quality.
It was very dark and the viewer on my camera is broken.

Feliz Dia de el Amistad!

2009-07-23T17:12:00.005-04:00

Happy el Dia de el Amistad (Friendship Day)! Today was a cold and rainy disgusting day but at Alalay we strung balloons across the kitchen, exchanged small cards, ate cake, and danced the afternoon away.

Carolaén feeding me Coca Cola. Carolaén is one of the coolest girls I know. She has spunk and style and she speaks her mind. I wish I could take her back home with me, I want to hang out with her every day for the rest of my life.

Carolaén, Mirian, Melisa, Kari, and John dancing to Daddy Yankee.

By the way, here are all the spellings of my name in my Amistad cards:

Kari (A few girls specifically asked me)
Cari
Cary

Queri (The English pronounciation translated to Spanish)

Cabi

Gladis (!!)

Anyway, Feliz Dia de el Amistad! I hope you celebrated it well.

A little something personal

2009-07-20T19:55:00.008-04:00

On Friday my parents finalized their divorce. For the last week I´ve been torn between wanting so badly to be with my family and wanting to be as far away as possible.

I imagined that I would have something I would want to write, something I needed to get off my chest. But now that the day has come and gone I´m out of words.

So instead I´ll share a little something I wrote for my mom about a year ago.

Mom,

Days will come and go when remembering the love you and dad shared seems difficult. Know that your three children, born out of your love and nurtured with devotion and compassionate care, are your legacy. We represent the love story that will last forever. As we live our lives, marry, have children and grandchildren, we will carry the love you instilled in us to those whom we share our lives with.

Wherever our travels lead we will honor the gifts you gave to us: knowledge, good judgment, unwavering morals, and a desire to give of ourselves. No one else could have been our parents, we were destined to be yours, and you did a magnificent job shaping our lives.

We will love you forever.
Kari

I still hold strong to these words. I think it is a testament to our family that we can endure. That our love and the bonds that tie us together are still intact.

Possibilities

2009-07-18T10:43:00.003-04:00

This week I saw a glimpse of my future. I saw what my life would be like if I chose the path I´ve dreamt about for so long. Living in another country, working in a non-profit helping people, having good friends to enjoy the weekends with, and my own house to come home to.

I met a guy from Spain who is in his late 20´s and has been working at the larger Alalay for 4 years. He loves his job and he does a fantastic job taking care of the children and making their home a fun and safe place to live. I spent time with him this weekend meeting his friends and going out dancing. He lives a great life. It is the exact kind of life I´ve always wanted for myself.

But for some reason I´m having a hard time imagining myself doing it anymore. I keep seeing all the things I would be missing out on. Family, weddings, babies, deaths, seeing my future nieces and nephews learn to crawl and walk. I want to be able to spoil babies.

I think I´m a little travel exhausted. I feel like I´ve been running from one place to another for the last nine years of my life. Having my fill of as many countries and cities as I can. In the last year I´ve been to three different countries, four if you include the United States. I want to settle down and enjoy an entire uninterrupted year in one place.

I don´t know anymore if what I´ve always wanted is still what I want.

Alalay Hogar por Niñas

2009-07-17T20:40:00.007-04:00

Alalay. This isn´t everyone. A lot of the older girls are missing. On the far left and right are the women who run the house and care for the children daily and third from the left is Reisa a fellow volunteer from Canada.

John John showing off the sticker on his forehead during coloring time.

We took a taxi to a large park for lunch and a day outside the house. To save money we divided 23 people between two taxis. Each taxi cost about $1.50 USD.

Rosalia clearly loving the swings. Reisa is in the background.

Playing checkers with sticks and rocks at the park. (Larenna, Rosalia, and John)

Rosalia, Kari, and Naemi (Nah-em-ee) hanging out.

I can´t take credit for this amazing picture. I´m not even sure which child it is. Beatrice commandeered my camera for an afternoon. She takes a fantastic shot.

This is not your house

2009-07-17T19:12:00.004-04:00

A group of Austrians who donated money to the orphanage came to visit today.

We prepared for hours before their arrival. Changing clothes, brushing teeth and hair, mopping floors, and making beds. They walked in the door with their designer handbags and top of the line cameras and within a few minutes had picked up the kids and snapped a couple pictures posing with their shiny engraved plaque. They were given the tour of the house and then they left. All of them in one car. All of their luggage in another. They didn´t stay for more than 15 minutes.

I´m sure they gave a lot of money and I know that everyone under this roof is incredibly grateful. Without their donation Alalay would still be in a small cramped house and the girls deserve better than that. But their trip was about making themselves feel good. It wasn´t about the kids. After they left the kids quickly changed back into their play clothes and moved on with their lives. Just another picture with a rich white guy.

The donors didn´t know any of the kid´s names. Any of their stories. They didn´t even share a meal or a cup of tea with the kids. The kids became a commodity bought with the charity money of a very rich man.

That man has his name permanently attached to the side of the house. It will remain there long after the girls have grown old and moved into new houses and new lives. Yet, those who live here, those who have spent their childhood coloring and cooking and bathing and sleeping between these walls will never have their names etched on a plaque. Eventually they will all leave but his name will remain. It makes me sad. This is their home, not his.

Good Mornings

2009-07-15T20:12:00.003-04:00

What is this happy feeling that seems to have sprouted deep inside my stomach?

That prickly resistance I´ve felt for so long is fading. My defenses are wearing thin and my acceptance of all things Santa Cruz is growing.

For so long all I could see were the differences that covered every wall and human within sight. I´ve started to see people going about their lives and their jobs in the same ways the have for generations before I arrived and in the same way they will for generations after I leave.

Some days I feel like everything that surrounds me is unfamiliar but I have to remind myself that I am the foreigner here.

I love waking up in the morning to my job at the orphanage. I love taking the 45 minute bus ride through the markets. Through street upon street of stalls overflowing with brooms and bread and rice and dead chickens hanging by their feet. I love the fast paced traffic that stops for nothing. I love to stop and pick up a Salteña each morning with its crispy dough outside and its warm greasy meaty inside. I love ringing the doorbell at Alalay and hearing the kids run to answer. I love knowing what kind of fantastic kids are waiting on the other side of the door.

Telephone!

2009-07-13T20:34:00.003-04:00

Whenever the telephone rings at our house a really funny series of events happens.

Joel (age 2) runs for the phone and usually makes it there first. He picks it up and usually answers with ¨Papa!¨ no matter who is on the other end. Although, sometimes he just holds the handset up to his ear without saying anything.

Kattia is usually right behind Joel and tries to pry the phone away from his sticky hands. Joel ends up crying and the person on the phone hangs up.

Everyone walks away.

The phone rings a second time (same caller trying again). Joel makes a run for the phone. Christian tries to intercept and pulls the phone away from Joel. Joel cries. Everyone is yelling. The caller hangs up.

The phone rings a third time. Joel makes a run for it again and Kattia lets him answer. He yells ¨Papa!¨ and with a satisfied smile hands the phone over to Kattia.

I haven´t had any need to call the house yet but if I ever do, I know that it takes at least three tries to get a non-crying adult on the line.

Driving Around S.C.D.L.S.

2009-07-12T18:20:00.003-04:00

Reisa arrived on Friday and today the family took a driving tour of Santa Cruz de la Sierra. Stops included Plaza 24 de Septiembre, el catedral, manzana uno (which has a handicrafts market every Sunday, Palacio de Justicia, Universidad, un mercado (to buy supplies for Alalay), Barrio Equipetrol (where we went for lunch), and Av. Monseñor Rivero. By the time we arrived home everyone was exhausted (some of us crying) and we took a collective family nap.

Driving around Santa Cruz. Joel is hiding!

Sergio really wants the camera and I´m not gonna give it to him!

Reisa and I stopped to take a picture of this building (I thought that it was funny that it´s a government building and is called House of Culture - like House of Pancakes) Two other tourists who were walking by noticed us taking pictures and wanted in on the cultural action! At first they tried to read the sign and find the significance of the building, failing to understand that the building had no real importance they then pulled out their lonely planet guidebook and tried to look it up. As we were leaving they quickly snapped a picture.

It´s funny how easy it is to convince someone that a completely random building is important by simply taking a picture of it.

Mom and Pop (Kattia and Alvero) at a going away party for Nina.

I think that this is some of the coolest graffiti I´ve found.

Hello again.

2009-07-11T09:33:00.002-04:00

Hey, it´s been awhile. That´s a good sign right?

It is!

I´ve been busy. Kattia and I decided that it was time to start a new project. English classes are still kinda sketchy and Bolivia has decided to extend its H1N1 vacation for another two weeks. (Over a month of vacation so far - I wouldn´t be surprised if there is more) So on Thursday I started working at Alalay, an orphanage for girls.

I love it. It is fun and exhausting and the kids absolutely love to be hugged non-stop. Next week I´ll start planning things for them to do during the day, crafts, games, etc. But this week I just hung out and gave them as much love as I could.

I´m not entirely certain the circumstances that have brought each girl (and one boy) to Alalay but from what I have gathered most still have parents who live in the vicinity of Santa Cruz but they are not able to care for them for whatever reason. I´ll write more in the coming weeks.

Gotta go. But check out what my mom is doing in Bulgaria for the week.
http://newhopedepere.blogspot.com/

Christian, Joel, and little Sergio

2009-07-06T14:37:00.004-04:00

I´m not a kids person. They are cute to play with for a day or two tops but after that I´m pretty much over it.

So when I arrived in Santa Cruz and found out that for the next two months I would be the big sister to three young boys I was a little frightened. I knew that it was only a matter of time until I had enough and I reached my breaking point.

I waited for my anger and frustration to boil over as I woke up each morning to the loud yells for Mammma! And I was sure I wouldn´t be able to handle much of the late night games and loud cartoons as I tried to fall asleep. (Anyone who knows me well understands that it is not advised to piss me off while I´m sleeping) I wasn´t sure how to react the first time I set Sergio on my lap only to find that he had very wet and stinky pants. And part of me felt certain that I should be angry when I walked into my room and found Joel and a puddle of urine sitting next to my bed.

I thought that I would reach my limit and that I would need a break from the non-stop yelling of three very vocally gifted boys who love to pop balloons, run their toys into the walls, and run up and down the hallway pretending to be animals.

But it hasn´t happened. Every time I think I am near the point of anger it quickly subsides. I have found that my ability to love these boys grows with each day. They win me over constantly. Every day they do something new and something undeniably cute.

At lunch time it is their harmonious humming in the same tone as the blender.

In the afternoon it is Joel yelling ´Hola Kari!´(Pronounced Car-Ree) at the top of his lungs every time he walks by my open door.

When Grandpa Hugo is around it is Sergio´s adorable salute to his dedicated Papito.

Today it was Christian beating me in a damn good game of chess.

And every day it is their smiles, their laughs, and of course their mess that endears them to me.

Paranoid Kari

2009-07-05T22:56:00.003-04:00

From what I can tell, Bolivians as a whole tend to be a fairly paranoid bunch.

Rachel and I happened upon this topic before she left and we compiled a fairly long list of weird superstitions and instructions that we had heard since our arrival.

Here is the gist:

1. Don´t sleep with the fan pointing towards you. It sucks the air out of the room. Point it at the wall instead.
2. If you´re going to sleep with the fan on you must also cover with a light blanket. Otherwise you´ll get sick.
3. When riding in a bus always have the window open for fresh air. Otherwise you´ll get sick.
4. You must always have shoes on while walking on tile floor because the `cold´will enter through your feet and reach your head and make you sick.
5. When you buy a car you must cover it with ribbons and bring it to the priest to be blessed. If you don´t own a car, but would like to, bring a miniature car to the priest and have it blessed.
6. If you have a fever you must cover yourself with blankets no matter how hot you are.
7. If you have a fever, drink mate de coca (coca leaf tea)
8. If you have altitude sickness drink mate de coca.
9. If you have a stomach ache drink mate de coca.
10. If you have a headache drink mate de coca.
11. Interestingly enough, if you have a virus you should drink raw egg and freshly squeezed lemon juice every morning at 4:00.

After rereading the list, I realize that I have followed all but numbers 1, 5, & 11 fairly regularly since I arrived. Maybe they aren´t so ridiculous after all.

Gripe!

2009-07-05T22:52:00.004-04:00

People here are pretty swine flu crazy. In Spanish, the flu is called Gripe (Gree-pay).

Every school in the country has been cancelled now for three weeks. There is talk that business will close as well. Just today at lunch they announced that everyone in all public spaces need to wear a face mask. All public performances and sports events are cancelled (But of course not until after Daddy Yankee performs-they are crazy about him here)

Nearly everyone is running around with face masks on. They sell them at the entrances to bus stations and airports. The number of those infected is reported daily among Bolivians like the highlights of a soccer match. Santa Cruz - 282, La Paz - 36, Cochabamba- 32. Last week my young host brother went running to his mother yelling that the news just reported that a vaccine has been developed. (For the record he yelled louder about the gripe vaccine then when his brother had fallen and was bleeding on the floor)

Yet, I still have only washed my hands with soap twice since arriving a month ago. Before anyone goes all American germ-freak on me, let me explain. There is no soap in any bathrooms. Anywhere! Even at home. At public bathrooms you pay 1 Boliviano to use the bathroom and that is under the unspoken understanding that you bring your own toilet paper. You´re pretty lucky if the toilet flushes and you´re rockstar lucky if the toilet is clean enough to sit down on.

About the time the outbreak hit, soon after I arrived, a coworker asked me if Americans wash their hands often. I responded that yes, Americans like to wash their hands several times a day. Then, with my not so great Spanish comprehension skills I´m pretty sure I heard her turn and say something to her other coworkers about how Bolivia would never be so obsessive about such a thing.

So, this country which is obsessed with preventing the spread of H1N1 and has plastered the walls with posters about preventing swine flu (wash hands, don´t cough on others, stay home if you´re sick, etc.) doesn´t feel like complying with rule number one in swine flu prevention - wash your damn hands.

It just seems ironic. Two very different approaches to stopping H1N1. Americans wash their hands non-stop, carry around bottles of hand sanitizer in their purses, and claim that masks aren´t really all that effective. Bolivians buy masks like they´re going out of style and mock Americans for their compulsive hand-washing habits.

CBBA - Cochabamba

2009-07-04T19:29:00.010-04:00

Why do all my pictures involve religious things? Churches, gigantic Jesus statues, more churches. It seems like the only buildings that have any kind of architectural style are religious in nature.

Look closely on top of the mountain. It´s Cristo de la Concordia! A gigantic Jesus with his arms reaching out wide as if he wants to give Cochabamba one gigantic hug. According to Lonely Planet lore he is a few centimeters taller than the famous Cristo Redentor in Rio de Janeiro.

After riding the teleférico (cable car) to the top of the mountain you can see that Jesus is in fact riddled with bullet holes. Ok, just kidding. Visitors can climb up to Jesus´s chest, wading through what I imagine are Jesus´s innards, and on the way peek out through the little windows.

Fountain and church in downtown Cochabamba. On the left of the fountain was a group of crazy religious people debating how the devil and the number 666 has infiltrated our culture. On the right were political activists arguing for socialism. I avoided both groups.

The 10 hour bus ride back to Santa Cruz was worse than the freezing trip to Cochabamba. I again sprung for the more expensive bus cama (literally bus bed or sleeper bus for about $8.00 total) but this time I ended up in a sweltering hot bus with no window sitting on a damp seat that smelled a whole lot like urine. I was greeted again by another family of cockroaches that kept scampering up the wall next to me but I honestly wasn´t bothered too much by them. The cockroaches were more friendly than my rather large neighbor who kept invading my seat space. After I spent an hour elbowing her sweaty body weight back into her seat I finally managed to wedge my purse between us to clearly distinguish the line.

What I´m trying to say is, I´m glad to be home. I missed good old Santa Cruz de la Sierra.

The Dumb American

2009-07-03T09:08:00.005-04:00

Well, I came to Cochabamba to be a tourist. And my god, I feel like the most stereotypical tourist possible.

Let me preface this with, I am not usually a stupid tourist but I also just got off a 10 hour overnight bus ride in which I nearly froze to death (I couldn´t feel my feet) and was forced to share my sleeper seat with a family of cockroaches. So I was exhausted, hungry, cold, and not thinking clearly.

Within 3 hours after arriving in Cochabamba I was scammed for about $40 by a street gambling game.

One might ask, why the hell I would play a gambling game when I somewhat despise gambling? I have no clue.

I´m not going to go into the specifics of the game, but it was kinda like roulette. I watched for awhile and the nice guy running the game gave me 5 Bolivianos to try it. The girl next to me won like 500 Bolivianos although I´m pretty certain that the nice girl was part of the scam.

Someday I´m going to be able to laugh about this. I´ll look back and know that I am all the wiser but right now I am pretty angry with myself. I promise this, I will never ever ever deliberately or accidentally gamble a single cent again.

Ok, I´m gonna pick myself up, brush myself off, and go enjoy Cochabamba.

My Attack Plan

2009-07-01T09:31:00.005-04:00

I´m done being bored.

School is on Swine Flu vacation for two weeks and I´ve been basically doing nothing the whole time. Sure, I´ve been teaching an English class for about an hour and a half each day, but that still leaves me with about 13 hours of time to kill.

After a few long conversations with family and friends about the true horrors of sitting in a room reading for 6 hours out of the day I decided that it is time for action. I´m not going to waste my trip being lazy and sleeping while there is plenty to do and see.

Today I´m leaving for Cochabamba! I´m taking a long weekend while my students compete in a big fútbol match to regain my adventurous spirit.

I´m excited to be able to play the role of tourist again. I thought that being a Cruceño (A person from Santa Cruz) for two months would be fantastic. I would know the city and reap the benefits of a long stay instead of simply passing through from hostel to hostel. Now, I kinda miss being able to pull out my camera and take pictures of the city and its people. I´m ready to look like a gringa again.

When I get back to Santa Cruz Julia Jimenez will have resumed classes and I will be back to my old self.

Bolivia is my Giving Tree

2009-06-30T15:02:00.005-04:00

Somehow, everything I think about happens.

-I miss The Daily Show, it appears.
-I write that the only show I still haven´t seen is Law and Order, it comes on the next night.
-Mom asks if I´ve had Mexican Maize con Queso, we have it for dinner the next night.
-Anne Schmeege asks if I´ve been trying flan much, we have it for dessert.
-I talk to Everett about Al Franken, he wins!

I´m telling you, this is some kind of magic power Bolivia has. I´m going to concentrate really hard on world peace for awhile. Just kidding, I´ll really be thinking about large sums of money.

Odd Bolivia

2009-06-29T09:35:00.006-04:00

Candles burning for the Virgin of Cotoca. From what I gather, someone saw the Virgin Mary in a tree stump. Now, everyone goes to Cotoca to pray to her.

The Catholic church in Cotoca. I think it is lovely.

Catholic guy blessing cars in Cotoca. A little of his water hit my leg. I´m just happy that it didn´t burn a hole.

On the left a woman holding out a piece of cardboard and on the right a monkey at a zoo. Stupid stupid people.

For some reason all pharmacies have religous names. Virgin Mother, Divine Child, etc. etc.

Our neighborhood strip club. Literally just two houses down.

Kattia and Alvero´s house. We live on the first floor.

A Good Bolivian Day

2009-06-27T11:32:00.002-04:00

Last night Kattia and I attended a meeting of the ASOCRUZ deaf organization. ASOCRUZ is a large group that encompasses the school and acts as a support organization of the entire deaf community of Santa Cruz.

Kattia and I went to the meeting as a last ditch effort to get people interested in the English class I am teaching. While there we found out that there was somewhat of a disagreement between the president of the organization and the principal of the school about my English classes.

From what Kattia and I understood, before I arrived the principal (who is hearing and knows very little sign language - and who I am guessing has only been principal for a short time) wanted to charge students 5 Bolivianos (Around 80 cents) each to attend classes. The president (who is deaf) thought that was a crap idea because 5 Bolivianos can be a lot of money for someone who is poor in Bolivia. In the end, the president gave up and I ended up working with the principal.

SO...
Last night I talked with the president and he agreed to ask the larger group if they were interested in classes. (Free of charge, because why the heck would I charge people for something I am doing for free)

Sixteen people signed up!
They were really excited too.

I´m really glad that this was resolved and I feel like I have a legitimate explanation as to why my classes were so small.

An Exciting Discovery

2009-06-27T11:22:00.002-04:00

If I was a 15 year old teenage girl I would be able to legitmately type 'OMFG' right now follwed by a high-pitch scream. Since I´m not, I´ll have to settle with 'YES!'

Earlier this week I realized that the TV at home plays episodes of the Gilmore Girls every morning. Super exciting! Made my day.

Then, today I disovered that CNN rebroadcasts an episode of The Daily Show each Saturday morning from 9:30-10:00. I nearly peed my pants.

I have actually been craving The Daily Show since I arrived. In my hotel room the 1st day I found it so unfair that they have Fox News playing, including O´Reilly and that idiot Glenn Beck but no Daily Show.

Last night, possibly a divine-inspired dream (more likely another Malaria medicine side-affect) I dreamt that I broke my ankle, was in a wheelchair, was on The Daily Show, and gave Glenn Beck a severe tongue-lashing. Then for some reason myself, Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert (who were also in wheelchairs) were brought out to a large semi-truck and we were all pushed aboard so they could bring us home. Oh, and George W. Bush was also there. I have no clue why.

Anyway, I´m pumped and I´m sure that I sound a little crazy right now but I´m excited that two of my all-time favorite shows are played in Bolivia. Now if only I could get My Boys and Law and Order.

Rachel´s Last Night

2009-06-26T12:21:00.006-04:00

Rachel leaves today. She has been living in Santa Cruz and working at Alalay, an orphanage for girls, for the last 6 weeks.

Last night we went out for a typical Santa Cruz dinner in her honor.

Holding baby Sergio while Kattia is eating.

Lydia giving blood sausage a try.

Trying my first and last bite of blood sausage. Blood sausage is exactly what it sounds like. Cooked blood in sausage casing. I also tried cow udder and intestine. I prefer cow udder to blood sausage. My least favorite was the intestine. It was chewy and green goo came out.

This is what Kattia and Alvero ordered. Kattia explained that in Bolivia they generally eat all of the parts of the cow.

Rachel eating her oh-so completely non-vegetarian dinner.

Little Joel is so excited to go to dinner that he is trying to push the car out of the driveway.

I´ve been in a lazy read-all-day mood lately. I´ll write a more informative post sometime this weekend.

El Dia de San Juan

2009-06-23T22:39:00.006-04:00

El dia de San Juan aka the winter solstice. Lydia, Kari, Rachel, Grandma Carmen, and little Joel eating hot dogs and drinking a delicious spiced drink.

El dia de San Juan. Hot dog night! Rachel is on the left and little Joel is already eating.

A picture of Santa Cruz.

A Bad Bolivian Day

2009-06-22T20:41:00.004-04:00

Today started as a good Bolivian day and ended as a bad Bolivian day.

This morning I was excited about my first day of English classes. It quickly went downhill as I arrived and only had one student. I´m not exactly sure why to be honest. I have my suspicions that students don´t want to have classes during their holiday vacation and that it was poorly announced.

There is also the question of whether English is the most effective use of these student´s time. I would only be teaching them written English because they are deaf most don´t have verbal skills. How often in the future would it be beneficial for them to have a minimal knowledge of written English? English is incredibly difficult to read and understand unless you have a solid grasp of grammar and vocabulary. I couldn´t possibly teach that to them in the short time I am here.

Whatever the reason, it was somewhat defeating to teach one student for two hours. I am also completely unmotivated to prepare my lesson for tomorrow.

On a happier note, Bolivia has a fantastic supply of pirated DVD´s for sale for about a buck each. I bought three! It´s kinda a fun surprise to turn them on for the first time and see if they are in English or Spanish.

Zombie Preparedness

2009-06-21T08:06:00.004-04:00

Violence is an unfamiliar reality that I´ve encountered in Santa Cruz.

Yesterday night my roommates and I stumbled across a photography exhibit with newspaper photos from the last year. I was surprised to realize how much bloody violence actually goes on in Bolivia each year (Or perhaps just last year).

In several of the photos I was able to recognize landmarks in Santa Cruz that I pass each day. One showed the central square filled with riot police spraying tear gas at protestors another showed a bloody man walking through a well known street filled with discarded rocks and glass. Cars and trucks on fire in the street, baseball bats being swung at humans, police attacking and beating an unarmed man, dead bodies being carried away in caskets. It was hard for me to reconcile the violence and police clashes in the photos with the calm safety of Santa Cruz I see each day.

Despite what I saw, I don´t fear for my safety here. I feel that Santa Cruz is a very safe city. Most of the violence captured in the photos was because of deliberate protests about specific issues. Unrest about the governmental status of Sucre, a desire for autonomy in Santa Cruz, protests about a new constitution. Interestingly enough, I´ve also noticed that nearly all of the graffiti in Santa Cruz is political in nature. Slogans like, ¨No mas fraude¨or ¨Morales = Muerte¨.

While I know that it is incredibly important to always be aware of my surroundings and avoid dangerous situations I also feel like the rare instances of violence in Santa Cruz can easily be avoided by simply remaining politically uninvolved.

On a completely different note, I was at a used bookstore yesterday and I found a copy of Truth by Al Franken! A good omen I think.

The Fantastic Unexpected

2009-06-19T20:55:00.008-04:00

Every day I come across something unexpected. Sometimes it is because I don´t understand everything that is said to me in Spanish or sign language but usually it is simply because I am unfamiliar with the normalicies of day-to-day life in Santa Cruz.

My first morning in Santa Cruz while I was staying in a hotel I was surprised to find that EVERYTHING was closed. Restaurants, stores, banks. I was penniless, hungry, and bored. I found out the next day that it was the Corpus Christi holiday.

The first time I used my host family´s computer I was greeted by my 11 year old host brother who pulled up a chair, sat down, and stared intently at everything I did.

At the destination on my first taxi ride to work I was annoyed to find that the driver over-charged me by 3 Bolivianos. (About 42 cents). I surprised myself when I argued for the correct price, called him a jerk, and slammed the door.

Today I saw the wild side of Julia Jimenez, the Catholic school, when the wonderful sounds of Michael Jackson´s Thriller was pumped through the courtyard. Even better--seeing a class of 12 year old students in perfect Thriller monster coordination.

Next Monday I start teaching an optional English course for students at ASOCRUZ during their winter break. This weekend I will be shopping for supplies and planning my classes. I´m nervous about teaching since I´ve never done it before but I´m thinking about bringing Oreos to win over the students.

Most importantly this weekend, I´ll be sleeping in with no alarm!

¡7-4 ASOCRUZ!

2009-06-18T19:15:00.007-04:00

Fútbol is a big thing here.

When you score, you score big. After making a goal players run around the field with their arms in the air, their shirts pulled over their heads, yelling at the top of their lungs. The goal culminates in a pile of players hugging and rolling on the ground.

If you are on the opposing team you fall to the ground in failure. Your teammates yelling at you in disgust. Everything is dramatic when it comes to fútbol.

Today ASOCRUZ visited another deaf school in Santa Cruz called CINOMS to play them in fútbol. The game started small with only the students from each school watching around an informal cement field. As the game progressed more and more people began showing up. Students from other schools, police officers, venders selling empanadas and coca-cola, the parents of players, Aymara women, and young children all gathered to watch the action.

I wont give you a blow by blow account of the game but lets just say that it was tense. There were points where I was literally out of my chair screaming. In the end, the boys of ASOCRUZ came out victorious with a 7-4 victory over CINOMS.

It felt good to walk back to the bus as one team with our trophy.

¿Nada?

2009-06-17T23:01:00.007-04:00

Today is a nothing to report day.

Life is good. Life is normal. My Bolivian life is starting to fit like a familiar pair of shoes.

The days have a steady rhythm. Wake up, work, lunch, work, dinner, sleep. (And a few things in between) Each day I fall asleep thinking in Spanish and wake up in English. Hopefully it wont be long before my mind forgets English all together.

I was riding in a taxi today and realized that I understood the lyrics to the song on the radio. I closed my eyes and my head fell backwards as I concentrated on the slightly offensive lyrics. I couldn´t help but smile.

Slowly, my grammer is improving. Often my verb forms come out jumbled with no logical endings. Today I am fairly certain that I correctly used the present perfect form in conversation (¿Arturo, has visitado Vallegrande? -- Profesora S. please correct me if I was wrong.)

A little victory.

Cecilia, Marco, and Javier

2009-06-16T13:19:00.003-04:00

I love siestas. There is nothing more fantastic than a country-wide sanctioned afternoon nap. After lunch I sleep and then wake up at 2:00 and take a taxi ($1.00 each way) to ASOCRUZ and help out until 6:00.

ASOCRUZ is a public school with very limited funding that teaches deaf students basic subjects along with a few trades such as sewing and cosmetology.

Today I worked with three students ages 12-18 who entered the school about a month ago and are learning the basics of sign language, numbers, letters and Spanish. Today we spent four hours teaching the students how to spell and sign their names. Let me repeat that. Myself and another teacher spent four hours teaching three 12-18 year old students WHAT THEIR NAMES ARE.

For the record, their names are Cecilia, Marco, and Javier. Tomorrow, when I ask them what their names are--they will know. In fact, they will also know my name and the name of their other teacher Mabel.

I am going to use this moment to emphasize the importance of sign language for deaf children. These kids had their entire childhood in a hearing public school and never learned their names. Today in a school for deaf children, using Bolivian Sign Language, they learned their names. Who knows what they will learn tomorrow or next week or next year.

If Anyone Asks, I´m Catholic.

2009-06-15T20:05:00.002-04:00

Today was my first day on the job as a volunteer at two deaf schools in Santa Cruz.

Julia Jimenez is a private Catholic school for ages 7-18. The students are all deaf and use a mix of Bolivian Sign Language and Spanish. The school is run by nuns and a handful of Catholic teachers.

I haven´t had much experience with Catholicism in the United States save for a baptisim here and there and the faith I know my uncle and aunt hold close. I have respect for their beliefs and for the beliefs that Catholics hold sacred.

Now let me say, Julia Jimenez takes Catholicism to a scary place. I spent four hours at the school Monday morning and witnessed an hour-long attack on a Christian (not Catholic) student who didn´t wish to participate in voluntary Confirmation classes in the evenings. The teacher and a nun stopped the entire class and stood in front of the student demanding to know why he wasn´t going to participate. After arguing for what felt like forever, (the student repeatedly saying no, he didn´t want to attend) the teacher settled for taping a copy of the confirmation class schedule in his notebook.

I was prepared to lie and say that I am Methodist. I figured that being an agnostic might be a little much for such a fiercly religious country. I didn´t realize I would have to cross myself and mimick the lips of the teachers and students throughout morning prayers. I´m not upset that I have to fake Catholicism but I do feel badly for the student. A part of me feels like I am betraying him by being able to so easily lie my way out of being Agnostic while he is stuck being the Christian outsider.

If only I could draw a little fish in the sand and let him know it is okay not to be Catholic.

Merry-Go-Round Brain

2009-06-13T19:18:00.000-04:00

I officially have Merry-Go-Round Brain.

I sit in my room and my brain spins around throwing words and ideas in every direction. I´m just trying to hold on. My body literally hurts from the weight of all this Spanish that is constantly being dumped into my mind. I figure that letting my brain off-gas some of this weight will do me good. It will make room for more words and thoughts. I can´t help but stare at the white wall while my eyes blur with exhaustion and my mind runs in twenty different directions.

How do I say ¨if¨again?
What was the word for ¨maybe¨?
What are the names of my family members?
How the hell do I conjugate verbs?

My mind is going so fast and yet is so tired that I can´t even bear to look at English words. I can´t do anything but stare into space. I hold my book in front of me so if anyone looks in the room they wont think I´ve turned crazy-like.

This is payback.

I should have listened closer to Profesora Brown during the last year. Now I have to play catch-up for all the times I didn´t do my homework or didn´t practice outside of class. I´m positive that this is payback for not studying for my final exam.

This is Spanish class karma.

Just Nod

2009-06-12T17:12:00.000-04:00

I have been doing a lot of nodding today. My host mom Kattia picked me up at the hotel this morning and greeted me in English. I was silently thrilled that I wouldn´t be lost with my crappy Spanish. About a block away from the hotel she told me that once we finished introductions and a tour of the house it would be Spanish only from this point out. I silently swore.

Kattia´s padre and I (I haven´t figured out his name yet) have been getting along great. He takes care of the kids during the afternoons here at Kattia´s house. Today while Kattia left for the airport we had tea and I showed him a book of pictures from Minneapolis and Saint Paul. I wanted to explain that in Minnesota there is lots of snow and ask him if in La Paz there is snow. I couldn´t think of the word for snow, so I said ¨blanco en la [wave arms around and point to air]¨. It didn´t work. He nodded, I nodded, we both couldn´t understand one another.

We did have one success. Through my broken Spanish I managed to tell him that I have two grandmothers and also a great-grandmother (bisabuela). He said it was admirable and that I must have a familia fuerte (strong family). I like that, hell yeah I have a familia fuerte.

Tonight another volunteer arrives bringing the total to three. It will be nice to have a diversion from the constant Spanish. I find myself spacing out while people are talking to me. I think it is my brain slowly shutting down in protest. Monday I start at the School for the Deaf.

Finally Arrived

2009-06-11T12:14:00.000-04:00

I will never go back to La Paz. Ever.

Here is the rundown of the last few days. Minneapolis to Chicago to Miami to La Paz to Santa Cruz. I actually have no concept of time right now. I couldnt tell you what day of the week it is much less how long I just spent on a plane.

From Miami to La Paz to Santa Cruz I sat next to a little girl. She was cute enough until she started throwing up in La Paz. We had plane problems and were stuck in the cabin for 3 hours enduring the altitude. (I learned today that La Paz is the highest capital city in the world) After we arrived in Santa Cruz she told me that I walk funny. A little vomiting girl made fun of me.

My watch tells me it is 12:30. Time for lunch? I might just go back to my room and pass out while watching Project Runway. I find it ironic that my apartment doesnt get Project Runway but my cheap Bolivian hotel does.

P.S. Mom, this post means I am alive.

My Watch

2009-06-10T09:46:00.000-04:00

I woke up before my alarm clock. I've showered, had breakfast, finished packing, and am still waiting for the alarm to sound.

I found my watch today. I never wear a watch in the U.S. What's the point? My cell phone goes with me everywhere and even if it didn't, there are clocks in every room--often more than one. My apartment has 7 clocks. Two computers, two cell phones, two alarms, and one wall clock. I bet the average house has wayyy more clocks than that. They are everywhere! Stoves, VCRs, DVD players, radios, cars.

Yet, somehow our American obsession with clocks never really stuck anywhere south of the U.S. Each trip I take I am reminded about my inner need to be on time and constantly know the time. On my study abroad trip to Mexico in January I bought my second ever watch. (The first was bought in Lithuania). The joints made of cheap metal are tarnished with the residue of the salty Atlantic. It went with me everywhere and bears the scars of some questionable decisions.

Aziz and I were bored sitting in a kayak in Akumal Bay as part of the coral and sea turtle protection team. I kept checking my watch to see how much longer until our turn was finished.

To make our 30 minutes a little more exciting he suggested that we kayak out to the point where the waves break on the coral. I agreed. Once there, he suggested that we try to ride the waves in. After arguing back and forth about the safety of such a feat (the waves were close to 7 feet in height) I caved to his idea.

We paddled out and once there we gave it a few tries, each time getting slightly closer to the crashing waves. Finally, Aziz said, "If we're going to actually ride the wave, we need to paddle all the way to the middle of the wave exactly while it's breaking, so we can be on top of it."

That made logical sense.

So we paddled to the middle of the impending wave and as we started to right our boat to the shore we turned around and saw a wave twice our height breaking behind us. I screamed Aziz's name. Aziz yelled a few swear words and the wave crashed down on us, pulling us both out of the kayak and slamming us onto the coral.

I stood up in the shallow water, trying to locate Aziz as more waves crashed down on us. He was closer to the shore and had already reached the kayak and a paddle. I cautiously walked towards him--each step damaging more coral that we were supposed to be protecting.

As we flopped back in the kayak sopping wet, our cuts stinging from the salty Atlantic, a boat of divers slowed and signaled us to see if we were alright. In the boat was the director of the coral and sea turtle protection team. I lowered my eyes and let Aziz wave as he quietly said, "thank god our 30 minutes is finally up."

One More Day

2009-06-09T20:00:00.000-04:00

Lindsay and I made pancakes this morning. Well, I ended up making them because she quit after I poured all the batter into one large pan for a gigantic pancake. They were delicious, she can't deny it.

I'm having a hard time getting into the trip mindset. Despite the fact that I have around 25 hours until my flight leaves tomorrow I keep finding fun things to distract me from packing. Making gigantic pancakes, watching The Daily Show, calling my mom, surfing the internet, reading the latest Sarah Vowell book.

Everyone keeps asking, "You ready!?". The answer is, "NO!!".

I realized yesterday that I haven't gotten my insurance card from the U's Learning Abroad Center. Kind of a big deal since I'm leaving tomorrow. I called, no answer, left a message, no call back. I have resigned to accept that these things happen. I can't control their process and I will simply have to let them figure it out. (Hopefully involving an express package to Bolivia).

I'm confused how I can still be so sick (two weeks running) when I have taken so many different medicines to prepare me for any kind of disease I might run into in Santa Cruz. I got the required Yellow Fever shot a week ago, I have taken the full regimen of Typhoid medicine, and today I start the Malaria prevention pills. How can the doctors be so careful about travel diseases yet not fix my congestion, exhaustion, and stiff muscles and joints?

Anyway, I'm rambling because I don't want to start packing. Hopefully my next entry will be via Santa Cruz on June 11th!

P.S. My cell phone and computer are staying in Mpls - contact me through e-mail. Bach0189@gmail.com

Ready?

2009-03-17T20:00:00.000-04:00

A little under three months until I leave for Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

I've been busy getting my flight arranged, completing my program registration, and finding generous friends and family who are willing to sponsor my trip.

I want to arrive with a thorough understanding of Bolivian history and current events but very little news of Bolivia is actually reported in the U.S. media. Over the past month It's been fascinating to research what is actually happening through Spanish-language online newspapers. I'll keep you all updated with any new Bolivian stories in the media.

I probably wont post too often in the next few months, but as the trip gets closer be sure to check back for the latest news and stories from Santa Cruz.