The view from Albergue

Me and Abi (sister here) ... Daniel is in the corner....

David, Abi, me and Ruth Gray!! (I live with Abi... David and Ruth are bonus siblings who live in another part of Coch)

New baby Angel!

Beautiful Alejandra and her son Angel

This crazy little thing called Kermesse

            Friday, my first day at Albergue (the center of Mosoj Yan where the girls live) I got a tour from Maribel who proudly showed me around the girls bedrooms, kitchen, meeting rooms, and the psycologist’s room on the third floor. She also showed me the view from the top floor, which looks out over the city and surrounding mountains.  From here you can see the Cristo, the giant Christ statue, perfectly on most days, but today there was smoke from the illegal fires burned in celebration of San Juan the day before.

            We went downstairs and just as I was getting the hang of cutting the cucumbers the right way, Gonzalo brought in 9 grocery bags of fresh meat. For more than 2 hours, we cut the fat off the meet and chopped it into little pieces. Maribel asked me if I’d ever worked as a butcher before.  That was nice of her.

            On Sunday I came back to Albergue for the Kermesse and tables were set up, music was playing, and the girls were working hard preparing fresh food to sell to raise money for their campamiento (or their camping trip) to Chaparé. The place looked like a good ole outdoor barbeque, but Bolivia style. I bought the freshly prepared plate with familiar looking meat, rice, choclo (ummm… to hard to explain… but it’s a vegetable), and white corn on the cob with HUGE cornels. I tried sharing my food and heard the same thing from these girls as from my aunts- no, no, you need to eat!

            My contribution to the day was babysitting Susanna, a very fat baby girl whose mom Julia, 15 and Quechan, was working and selling food. In the past 3 days, Julia really warmed up to me. And in the past 3 months, she’s made huge strides in her self-confidence. She came to Albergue very stoic and shy and hardly spoke Spanish. Now three months later she’s laughing with the girls, teasing her daughter in Spanish, and has been coaching Alejandra, who was 9 months pregnant on Saturday, through the pain of her contractions.

            The Kermesse was a success, and was a mark of celebration for the girls because the day before, Alejandra, 20, had her baby boy, Angel. Today, Tuesday, I got to meet Angel. And I witnessed his first bath. I also witnessed the camaraderie between the girls at the house, especially Julia and Alejandra. They all want to learn how to care for these babies, and they want to know how to one day do more than their parents could for their kids. These girls are great. They are learning a ton, and even if they don’t master everything, they really know how to cook meat. 

Home Take Two

            Mis tias- I have 2 aunts. They are very Bolivian. Very old fashioned. They both are semi-elderly. They are too cute and they both are always sure they always know what is best. They both are so dang loveable. And they both will do anything for me. Their last words will be Comé, comé! (eat, eat) What do you want to eat? Something, anything? The only thing I’ve turned down eating so far was sardines. But tía Mabel hadn’t made it yet and when she asked me if I wanted some, my face gave me away. She started cracking up and said ‘how bout chicken?’

            Tia Eva is more reserved, or at least more quiet. I think she’s amused by me more than not. We’ve had some really great conversations about our faith and lives. We’ve also had conversations where she, smiling ear to ear, calls me out on making up words.

            Daniel is my host brother; Abi, my sister. So far I’ve appreciated their friendship and the way they’ve explained so much to me. They are half gringo, so they understand my perspective. More so than that of their aunts.

            Sunday they took me to church. Sunday evening we went out with some of their friends. (I have Bolivian friends!) Ice cream and the movies. They’ve been awesome about sharing their lives. And friends. One of these friends from church, well they call him “curly.” I tried to do the same but the word I said meant handsome. Oops.

            It’s been really good to take it slow. 2 federal holidays this week= I have had time to adjust to hearing Spanish and I’ve had time to just sit for an hour after every meal and talk to at least one member of my family. I haven’t really started work yet. I’m looking forward to being at Mosoj Yan.

Until then, Bolivia is keeping me enamored- the fruit, family, and politics and all.

Fun tidbits-

FOOD- For breakfast we have yogurt, which is all sold in bags- seriously a good way to do it!, plantains, and cereal with instant coffee in fresh milk. We boil the milk to clean it, but its fresh from the cow!

We eat a big lunch- normally a meat, rice or potatoes, and some kind of chopped vegetable salad. We eat everything on our plates- I mean everything. J People often come home from work for lunch and then go back. Lunch is the biggest most important meal of the day.

Dinner is more like a little snack of fresh bread and some tea. I’ve never been very hungry even by night time. 

Irony in Miami

Irony is the only common factor in my last two days of traveling. Since I've been grounded for a long-term layover in a tourist hotspot, Irony has taken on many shapes.
In Miami airport Irony looks like the lady who tells me I can't get on the plane to Bolivia that leaves at 11 pm because it is 10 pm. (Of course...)
Irony looks like the distressed Senora who comes to the counter a half hour after me saying she's got to get to Bolivia, she's doing medical missions.
Irony is the plane ticket that we both now have that will let us leave on Thursday at 11pm to get to Cochabamba on Friday at 11:15am. (Irony is that I have a friend to make the connection with!)

Irony looks like me crying to my dad on the phone while the security guards at the airport looked sad for me because they could not open up security.

Irony in Miami looks like warm and wonderful conversations from the elder Cuban man at Dunkin Donuts and the Dominican Republican shuttle driver after a youth group with T-shirts about 'God at work in Brazil' looks down at my luggage and won't make eye contact with me.

Irony looks like disappointment because I'm not spending the night on an airplane, and irony looks like me waking up at 11am in a beautiful hotel room realizing that perhaps I needed rest.
Irony is feeling stuck, and then being able to take a cab to South Beach for a day and rest. (and swim!!)
Irony is remembering that I'm not stuck, my new Haitian friend who drove the cab is.
Irony is fearing feeling alone here, because I don't know a soul. Irony is looking forward to getting to Bolivia where I will be surrounded by family, and irony is the sigh of relief because I can still call my family right now.
Irony is that hearing spanish everywhere comforts me.
Irony is resting and letting God hug me with sunshine and time to think. And it's wondering how in the world I would have held up if they had let me on the plane.
Irony, most of all, looks like the most beautiful woman in all of Miami beach- the Senora (approx. 60) in the Chita bikini. She was perhaps unfit for her suit, but didn't seem to care. She ran to get into the ocean much like the 5 year old adjacent to her. She ungracefully went under and came up smiling. Then she floated there with a huge grin. She was the reason I went swimming. It looked too good to miss.
Irony. (That God maybe thought the same thing.)

"What country are y'all from?"

Oh- and just for fun, Irony is this guy's shirt who I was walking behind. Very HNGR.