Home

I'm back in the States! It was a crazy, crazy journey home. Bolivia did her best to try to keep me there as my flight was delayed by about six hours, meaning I needed to spend the night in Houston. I ended up doing the mad dash through the airport to catch my connecting flight to Texas in Miami, instantly regretting packing all of my books in my carry-on bag (seriously, who does that?). I did enjoy a beautiful vanilla latte in a Starbucks Christmas cup though so the airports weren't all bad news. And my family and the boy were there to meet me in Sea Tac for a real good welcome home.

And then I froze to death :)

The transition back to the States has been pretty easy but it definitely feels a little weird to be back. Bolivia wasn't just a trip, it was a life and that life is over now. I miss it. When people ask how Bolivia was, it's really hard to answer because I feel like I'm trying to summerize a lifetime and that is difficult. I always just say "wonderful." But if I could say a second word, I would also say hard. Bolivia was wonderful and hard. God was so good and carried me through all of it.

This is probably my last blog post. But I wanted to thank you guys for reading and making me feel like what I was experiencing was worth reading about. So Gracias :)

And Chao for now!

Stream of Conciousness.

...aka I can't focus so this post is all over the place.

Anyone know of a way to arrive without leaving? That's my dream right now, to arrive in Washington without leaving Bolivia. The places I love are too far apart! Either that or let's find a way to make airfare cheaper. Heck, let's dream big and just go for teleporting. Perfect.

Today, I got asked where the soda is at the grocery store. I could have kissed the woman because that's pretty much assuming I'm a local, right? "Towards the back, on the right" I said with a grin. Happy dance. It's a long way from "She's not from here, is she?"

I got to visit my family in Santa Cruz again this weekend. I just love Dr.Carmiña, Dr. Boni, and little Martina. Have you ever experienced a gift that you know you didn't deserve? That's what this family has been. "When are you getting married?" they ask. "We will come to Washington for that." And they are serious. "Come on vacation with us! Come back with your children someday. Eat more yuca. You know this is your house whenever you need it. Are you happy?" Yes, I am so happy.  The love just keeps on coming with these wonderful, lovely people. (I feel like I should clarify that wedding bells and babies are not in my immediate life plans, Bolivians are just...forward thinkers?) 

For some reason "Paradise" by Coldplay is my blog/Bolivia experience soundtrack. If one song can be considered a soundtrack.(Listen here:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1G4isv_Fylg&ob=av2e  ...I don't know what the elephant has to do with the song but the cinematography is gorgeous). This could para-para-paradise.

I burned my leg on the exhaust pipe of a moto yesterday. Such a gringa move. A nice blistering second degree burn, right next to my scar from being thrown into the rocks of Lake Padden last summer. At first I was bummed that my leg is going to have yet another scar but now I can just tell people, "Oh yeah, that's from when I was in Bolivia..." Some people get tattoos to commemorate life-changing experiences. I brand myself. 


Guaranteed the lady in the grocery store would not have asked me for directions had she seen that happen!

“It is a strange thing to come home. While yet on the journey, you cannot at all realize how strange it will be.”

While in Santa Cruz for the best/hardest day of my life, I was able to stay with Dr. Carmiña's family in their lovely home. I am expecting some reverse culture shock when I get back to the States but I wasn't expecting it to occur before I touched down in the good ol' USA. I'll be honest, it made me nervous.

My first clue that I may not be prepared to re-enter my old life (ten days from now!) was when Dr. Carmiña asked me to please fasten my seat belt when I got into her car. Whoops. I've only worn a seat belt twice in the last three months -and both times were in a airplane, not in a car. I wouldn't have even done it then if the flight attendant hadn't blasted it over the intercom. The vehicles that I ride in regularly don't even have seat belts.

Dr. Carmiña then apologized that the air-conditioning wasn't working very well. I almost laughed out loud because I was thinking about how I'd forgotten that cars even have air-conditioning and what a glorious invention it is. Seriously folks, there is cold air that blows and it keeps you refreshed even when it's freaking hot outside. How wonderful is that?

When I entered la doctora's home, I was only more impressed. "There's a flat screen TV and a computer with internet and leather couches and HOLY SMOKES, is that microwave? This house is amazing! This house is like...my parents' house...and...it's like MY house." It was such a weird moment. Seriously, I was genuinely excited to use a microwave. A microwave. Who knows what my reaction will be to other household appliances...like a TOASTER :)
                                                                     
I recently read article on how to give your fridge a makeover. I was thinking it would be about how to keep your fridge clean but nope, it was actually about how to keep your fridge pretty, literally pretty. Things like use labeled french canning jars to store leftovers in, buy products with pretty packaging, wrap cheese and meat in butcher paper and tie with twine, put a vase of flowers in the fridge...have I just been in South America too long or is this ridiculous? If people's priorities are to put petunias in their fridges, not sure that this is the culture with which I want to identify.

Plus, there are mangoes here.

Thanksgiving Certainly "Delivered"

Holy smokes, people. You will not believe what I got to do for Thanksgiving!!

I mentioned in my last post that I got the opportunity to tour a hospital in Santa Cruz with a nurse who I met a few weeks ago. What I didn't know was that my friend is not just a nurse but the head pediatric doctor in the maternity ward. That's right. The head honcho!

Before I go much further, I should explain that labor/delivery/prenatal care has always been an interest of mine. No, really ALWAYS. Way back in the day, my favorite episode of Sesame Street was when the Robinson family had a baby and my siblings would scream in horror when I watched A Baby Story on TLC. "Please not a c-section!" my five year old brother would wail (What five year old boy even knows what a c-section is? Sorry Joe!). So basically, I was out of my mind excited to get to go to this hospital and experience the action in real life!

That said, my expectation for the day was this: Watch a lot of things through glass windows. Maybe get to actually have some patient interactions. And that was about it.

My expectations were blown out of the water. Completely.

My first hint that I would be doing a whole lot more than observing was when Dr. Carmiña handed me a white nurse's uniform. "Cool, I'm playing dress-up!" I thought. But when we arrive at the hospital, she lets me follow her around as she examines all the newborns -eighty newborns. There were about seven moms to each room (Seven!) and no curtains giving anyone any privacy. While the hospital was obviously old (think wrought-iron beds and stark white walls) it was pretty clean, although it was obvious that this was where the poorest of the poor come to give birth.

Sarah Groves wrote a song and the lyrics are as follows:

I saw what I saw and I can't forget it.
I heard what I heard and I can't go back
Something on the road, cuts me to the soul.
Your pain has changed me.
Your dream inspires 
Your face a memory 
Your hope a fire
Your courage asks me what I am afraid of
And what I know of God.

And that's exactly how I felt while at the hospital. I saw beautiful moments of motherly love and tender care of the world's newest members. Precious twin baby girls with the thickest, softest baby hair. Mommas nursing for the first time or comforting their little ones after getting their blood drawn. A lot of anxious, fish out of water, new dads. The proudest grandparents.

But a lot was also completely heart wrenching. The fourteen year old little mamas (yes, there was more than one) that are so unprepared that they don't even have diapers. The mom with Huntingtons disease that can barely control her body enough to breastfeed and another young mom weeping with postpartum depression. Mommas that can't give the daddy's name on the birth certificate because they were raped and babies no bigger than my hand covered in wires and tubes...I saw what I saw and I can't forget it.

Life can be so beautiful and so awful.
                                                                        ---

I'm having a once in a lifetime experience helping Dr. Carmiña when the most freaking embarrassing moment of my entire life happens. All of a sudden I start to feel horrible. My stomach is flippity flopping and my limbs feel like million pounds. And then I start to BLACK OUT. I can feel my knees buckling so I clutch the nearest table thinking "Well, I guess a hospital is probably one of the safest places to pass out." Dr. Carmiña realizes what is happening and guides me to a chair. After I'm seated and drinking some juice, I immediately feel much better -except for being completely humiliated in a room full of woman who have just been through the worst pain in their lives. Are they collapsing? Oh no, it's the wimpy gringa who is passing out -for no reason!

I still don't know why that happened. I'm not queasy around blood or hospitals and I'd eaten breakfast that morning too. I hadn't even seen the worst of it at this point. Maybe I was just too excited? Not sure. Thanks a lot, body :(

After I recover (physically, mentally I am forever shamed), I get to help one of the nurses give all eighty infants their TB vaccinations. This was one of my favorite things even though we made all of them scream their poor little hearts out, it just meant I got to cuddle them afterward.

That afternoon, Dr. Carmiña told me that she was assisting during a cesarean and asked if I wanted to attend! HECK YES was my answer. Once again, I'm thinking looking through a glass window is all that I'm going to be able to do but when we get there, I get handed a pair of scrubs, a face mask, and those little plastic booties that go over your shoes. I am freaking out from excitement but also worried, remembering that my body apparently HATES me and is completely unreliable. "If I pass out during this delivery, I will never forgive myself," I'm thinking as I step into the operating room.

But I don't pass out, in fact I don't even flinch as I see EVERYTHING. I will save you the gory details but I saw it all. My cheeks were hurting from smiling as they pull out a baby girl and I witness her first breath. I get to be the second person in the whole world to hold her, less that five minutes old. I whisper "bienvenidos chiquitinga" (welcome little one) when she opens her eyes and looks at me. And I can't decide whether to laugh or cry so I sorta do both.

And I could have been eating turkey! Best, most unforgettable Thanksgiving day ever!!!!!

Many thanks to Dr. Carmiña for letting me tag along with her. You truly gave me the world this week.

Dia de Gracias

Well, I don't think I will be having the traditional Thanksgiving dinner here in Bolivia. I first realized this when Helen (my American housemate) and I went to the market to buy pumpkins for our pumpkin pie and came back with acorn squash. But don't pity me too much, my Mom is a gem and Thanksgiving part dos will take place when I get back to the States.


Traditionally, my family always goes around the table before we eat our Thanksgiving feast to say what we're thankful for. If I was going to be there tomorrow, I'd probably mention some of these things for which I have a thankful heart!

1) I'm not scared of bugs. I pick the ants out of the sugar jar without flinching every morning and actually have to remind myself that the spiders here might be dangerous so I should be a little afraid of them. Even the lizard in my bedroom barely raised my blood pressure.

2) I got to go on an amazing trip to Peru, see my dream of dreams, and experience a little more of South America. And I didn't get raped or robbed! Success.

3) My boyfriend emails me. Every. Single. Night. Sometimes, he writes a lot, sometimes a little but there's always an email. You rock, Joey Kelly!

4) I've gotten to hold so many BABIES. Almost every time I go out to el campo there's a little one to love.

5) Skype. I love Skype. And it's free. It's a free, good thing. I'm writing a thank you letter to whoever invented Skype when I get back to the States. (Anybody have his/her address?) :)

6) I am here during the peak of the mango season. I know I've mentioned my undying devotion to them before but my housemates told me that -no joke- I'm starting to smell like them. They are leaking out of my pores. I haven't turned orange yet but I'll keep you updated.

7) Montero is a pretty safe town to explore. I walk around by myself all the time without problems and this gives me a freedom that I'd go crazy without.

8) The fan in my bedroom. My room would be a hotter oven without it.

9) I've only gotten sick a handful of times and never for more than a day. I might owe my body a thank you letter when I get back too.  

10) Mirna, our secretary is such a great friend. And her 2 year old son finally likes me! There may have been some bribery with cookies involved in that one, he's a timid little guy!

11) Disney movies in Spanish. So great!

12) The weather here is beautiful. I'm worried that I will freeze to death when I head back to Washington.

13) The street food here is so amazing! If you can get over the sketchy-ness of it, it's some of the tastiest food ever! Last night, some friends and I sat at a woman's cart, where she had raw chicken in gallon buckets that she was frying up with yucca (that weird potato thing) and veggies.  A plate was less than the American dollar!

14) Jesus isn't just in America.  Amen? Amen.

15) Tomorrow, I get to tour the prenatal care/birthing center at the hospital in Santa Cruz! I am so excited that this opportunity fell into my lap as I've always been passionate about maternal/child health. It's not how I'd usually spend Thanksgiving but one I'm sure that I won't forget :)

Back on the Band Wagon

After a rough couple days, some venting, and a brief (ok, maybe not so brief) pity party, I woke up yesterday resolved to get back on the band wagon, cram those rose-colored glasses back on my face, and make Bolivia wish she'd never messed with me. As we headed out to el campo for the day, I decided to imagine that I had one of you guys along with me, as an attempt to see things with fresh eyes.

A lot of bloggers say, "If I had you over for coffee right now, we'd..." Well, if you were with me in Bolivia yesterday you would have...

...Wondered why we had to go to two gas pumps to get gas. I would have explained to you that the first pump is "air gas" ...and that I don't have a clue what that means. But we have two tanks and sometimes we use air gas and during times we need more power, we use the regular liquid kind. You also would have thought that the gas attendants' uniforms are a little strange. Their high heels, tight skirts, and lipstick reminds one of another um, profession.

...Enjoyed the ride out to el campo. It's a bumpy, two-hour, dust churning ride but the views are amazing and quite unique. I would have pointed out some parrots and owls to you and told you about the time I saw a capybara -the world's largest rodent.

...Been amazed at how great the children are! We would have tossed the frisbee around and answered questions about the States. You would have joined me in giving out as many hugs as possible and I might even have shared the 15 week old baby that I got to hold, if you asked me really nicely. 

...Been introduced to my dear health promoters -sixteen women that are about my age but have led completely different lives. Most have at least a couple children and haven't done things like ridden on a airplane or gone to college. You would have been so impressed by the amazing health fair they put on!

...Worried with me that one of the new mommas left her newborn at home all day. And they don't bottle feed in el campo.

...Loved the lunch, as long as you're ok that it was served in gallon buckets and delivered in a wheelbarrow. Chicken with rice served with a savory sauce, YUM! I would have encouraged you to eat everything on your plate because it's rude to waste food.

...Laughed when I attempted to sing a song when the kids begged for an "English song." My song choice was "Pumped Up Kicks." Pretty glad that they can't understand the lyrics to that song, although the tune is catchy.

...Been so impressed by my stick-shift driving skills! Marco taught me on the back roads and I didn't kill it once.

...Come to appreciate a ice-cold Coke. It's the only thing cold in el campo.

...Joined me in dancing with the elderly Quechua women at the fiesta commemorating anniversary of the water system in the town of Rio Viejo. We would have eaten grilled pieces of meat with our hands and I would have shown you how to discreetly feed the gristle to the dogs.

...Thought the lightening bugs on the drive home were the coolest. Plus, there was also lightening in the sky too. All of that, plus the fact that it's the first time we've sat down and cooled off all day makes for a lovely ride home.

...Laughed with me as we discover leftover confetti from the fiesta, smeared with the dust on our skin when we get home. To me, that perfectly encapsulates el campo. Dust with confetti, hardship with celebration, suciedad con esperanza...

Yup. Back on the band wagon, folks!  Hope you enjoyed your little trip to Bolivia :)

The Fetal Position

I feel like my last post must have hurt Bolivia’s feelings or something. Like she thought I was saying, “Alrighty, I’m out of here in a month, do your worst” because this week was rough. Emotionally, spiritually, relationally, and now physically difficult (horrible, horrible stomach pain all day today), Bolivia brought me to the fetal position in more ways than one. I was about write a formal retraction regarding the last post, claiming a severe case of rose-colored glasses because honestly, this week blows.

I think a lot of little things accumulated but some big, bad things were in there too. For example, one of my dear friends here, Rachel left Montero today, due to visa problems. She was the only other English-speaking christian here in Montero (that I know of) and I miss her. Even if we didn’t always get the chance to talk, the thought that she was a short walk across town was comforting to me. Wish you the very best, my dear Raquel!

Cultural things as well have really just been a drag lately. I can’t write about a lot of them (“thou shall not complain about friends or loved ones on the internet” is one of my blog rules) so instead I’ll share this story that my Mom told me today while I was venting we were chatting.

My Mom lived with a host family while she was here in Bolivia and one day the little niña in the family complained that she was hot. So naturally, my Mom offers her a glass of cool, refreshing water out of the refrigerator. So far, so normal. Just as the child is about to take a sip, however, the host mother gasps, grabs the glass away from her daughter, and starts screaming at my Mom. Soon other family members join in the screaming too, making my Mom one bewildered gringa. 

You’re probably thinking something along the lines of “What the heck?” right now. Or maybe, you’re hypothizing that the glass was full of pesticides or that the daughter is allergic to water and the host mother was just saving her life. (Side note: The confusion, hypothizing, and general “what the heckness” that you’re experiencing right now? Welcome to my world). The fact is, none of those things is the case in this story. The family believed that drinking cold water is bad for children because it would make them ill. 

So what was my Mom supposed to do at that point? Tell them how wrong they were? Sit there and take the screaming? Calmly explain that you. are. crazy? 

While I didn’t get screamed at over the past few days, I certainly struggled with those questions and cultural differences. But the truth is, we have super weird things that we believe in the States too. Don’t even get me started on how so many Americans believe that Vitamin C cures the common cold. And I know that there are countless other things that we do/believe that are ridiculous too.  

And I also know that this is just a week. One of twelve, and that perspective is helping. But Bolivia, please chill out. Let’s be friends again, yes? Por favor!

"This place where you are right now, God has circled on a map for you."

Tomorrow, I will have exactly one month left in Bolivia. And I don't know how to follow up that sentence because there are  just so many emotions. I am out of my mind excited to return home. Woods coffee with my housemates, Bellingham sunsets with the boy, laughing with my fam, playing with my sweet "nephews" -my heart yearns for those moments and aches for the ones I missed while I was gone.

And yet, Bolivia has embraced me and hasn't let go. Housemates that throw me in the kiddie pool (twice, in one evening!), church friends at bilingual Hillsong concerts, freezing cold showers after a hot, dusty day in el campo, holding babies with deep brown eyes, homemade mango ice cream, mango juice, mango marmalade...I'm on a serious mango kick right now. They are practically leaping from the trees into my open mouth.

In all seriousness though, I don't know how I'm going to leave. I'm used to living here and in a month I won't be here at all. It gives one a desperate "must do everything and love everyone all the time" feeling. Don't want to leave any regrets. But I'm thankful that I don't want to leave because if all I did was want to go home, I'd have missed out on something real good here. And the little ache at the thought of leaving means that I did some living.

I know that God and I chose the exactly perfect amount of time to be here, whether it seems like it or not when the time comes to say "chao." Not only the perfect amount of time, but in the perfect place, circled for me. It's so clear that although I didn't know where I was going until what seemed like the last minute to me, God has truly been preparing me for this trip my whole life. For starters, by giving me a Momma that raised a little world traveler (and yet a Momma's girl at the same time...how did she do it? :] ).

I wrote this on her FB wall the other day but it's worth repeating on the interwebs: 

Dear Mom,
Thank you for giving me a love of Latino culture. Thank you for not allowing me to be afraid of bugs. Thank you for teaching me to stand up for myself. Thanks for being the first one to teach me Spanish. Thanks for encouraging me on this journey! Te quiero muchisimo! From the time I was una chica, you prepared me for this trip. I don´t know if you knew I would be in South America one day but, I´m grateful that you are my Momma!

 So thanks to my Momma, Jesus, and few other supportive people, here goes one more month! Viva Bolivia :)

Mob Justice

Before I left on the Dream of Dreams trip (see here), I had quite the adventure with one of my friends from church. It all started when she asked me to make spaghetti for her family. So we set out to get the ingredients for spaghetti a la Davielle :)

It was already a weird afternoon, being election day, which made the streets eerily quiet and abandoned. You need a permit to drive on election day so most folks just opt to stay home. You're also not allowed to drink the whole weekend proceeding an election, so all the bars are closed.

Anyway, election day caused problems for us because: Every. Single. Store. Was. Closed. Now there aren't a lot of supermarkets in Montero anyway but usually you can get what you need at the huge outdoor market . However, the market too was mainly closed but we managed to find a few stands and got everything except for hamburger (or "ground meat" as it is called here -if you ask for "hamburger" you're gonna get something with a bun).

Just as we were leaving, I see two men running straight at me. There is a look of complete and total terror on the face of the guy in the lead. Then I notice that there's a huge crowd following them. Scratch that, we're going to call them a mob. I'm starting to get a little frightened at this point because the whole gang is headed straight for me and I have nowhere to go.

They end up catching the guy right in front of me. I get a little jostled by the crowd and realized that they are all shouting "thief, thief!!" Turns out that the guy -who just lost what may have been the most important race of his life- stole a woman's purse. By this time, there's a very large man making his way through the crowd, holding a whip. I'm starting to see where this whole thing is headed and believe me, this was not something for which I wanted to be a spectator but the crowd has boxed me in. I was stuck watching.

You can guess what happened next. They didn't whip him within an inch of his life or anything but it wasn't pretty and I wish I wasn't there. It reminded me of a Bible story, where everyone gathers around while they stone a prostitute. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on the guy's face and if he happened to see the look on mine, it was absolute pity.

After a good whipping, the mob dragged him over to a policeman. I'm not sure what happened after that because I was whisked away on my friend's moto. While we were driving away, I asked her if this type of punishment was common and she told me yes. Once, she said a man did something (I didn't know the verb that she used in Spanish, but you can imagine) to a three year old girl and a mob burned him to death. I'm not sure what the crime rate is here in Montero but with punishment like that I would hope it'd be next to nothing.

El Viaje (The Trip)

Yikes, it's been awhile since I've blogged. The excuses -ahem, reasons -are that research for the internship really picked up and then I went to Peru with my housemate. Yup, Peru. Anyway, said all that to say -sorry it's been awhile. Big, long, fat post to make up for it, ok? Ok.

So my "dream of dreams" (or "sueño de sueños") for quite sometime has been to visit Machu Picchu. It's something of a vendetta for me because I was almost able to go in high school...and then I wasn't. Ever since then, I thought it'd be the COOLEST to go and see that abandoned city. Plus, Peru has Inca Cola, which is the best soda on the planet. And while Bolivia isn't exactly close to Machu Picchu, it's closer than I might be for awhile, so I jumped at the chance to go!

For your reading pleasure, here are some of my memorable moments:

Bus or butcher shop?: We're on a eight hour bus ride and I awake from a short snooze to the sound of a woman butchering a sheep. She's literally on the floor of a bus with a sheep carcass, hacking at it with a machete, and selling the meat to nearby passengers. I don't know what weirded me out more, the fact that my bus was also a butcher shop or that I actually really wanted some of that meat, it smelled so good!

The Machu Picchu view: Most anticipated moment of the trip, for sure. I got up at 4am to hike up the mountain (and beat the crowds, as I did not want a bunch of poncho-sporting tourists in my pictures!!). I reached the crest of the mountain, holding my breath, waiting for that iconic postcard-worthy image, and as I rounded the bend....I saw....fog. Nothing but FOG. No ruins, no mountains. It was a whole lotta nada. However, not even five mins later, the fog cleared out and everything slowly emerged, revealing the prettiest view that I have ever seen. There are no words, folks! The fog just made things more dramatic.

How Machu Picchu almost wasn't: We were "sold" Machu Picchu tickets by a man named Oscar, who insisted that if we didn't buy right then and there, we'd be unable to go. Unwilling to risk my dream of dreams, I "bought" the tickets from him against my better judgment. But he didn't actually give us the tickets. Instead, he said that his coworker, Maria, would give them to us when we got to Cusco. Yet when we arrive in Cusco, there are no tickets and even worse, no money. Maria is late to every meeting and incredibly unhelpful. She just keeps telling us "I have no money, can no buy tickets." Finally, I end up telling her that it's her responsibility, her business, and we need the tickets by that night. I also may have complained to other tourists in the hostel lobby. That finally got her moving and she borrowed the money from her son so she could buy us the tickets. To say that business practices down here are inefficient and frustrating is something like the understatement of the year. Learned my lesson though, I'm never dishing out money unless I get some tickets in my hands! And just in case you feel bad for Maria, Oscar eventually gave her the money (the day we went to Machu Picchu -just a little late).

White does not equal red, white, and blue: Before leaving from Peru, I had the assumption that all white people here in South America are from the States. Boy, was I wrong! I met some Brazilians, Australians, and a ton of Europeans during my travels. I think I met more Dutch people on the trip than I did Americans. Meeting people from other cultures was one of my favorite parts of the trip, for sure!

Best meal: It's a tie between the Alpaca steak in Puno and the trout from Lake Titicaca. I also really liked the street food in Cusco, super cheap stuffed peppers that I would eat everyday if I could. And Inca Cola, that stuff gets better every time I try it!

Art Criminal: Our first time out in the big city of Cusco, we were stopped in the main plaza to admire some painting that a young man was selling. Art is one of my favorite souvenirs to purchase, so I found a painting that I liked and prepared to pay for it. But just when I was about to hand the guy my money, the police come and without so much as a glance in my direction, they grab the art dealer by the arms and haul him off. I was stunned. Welcome to the big city of Cusco! I asked a shopkeeper about it later and she said it's illegal to sell things in the plaza so that's why the guy got canned.

Taxis are scary: My father, being the great dad that he is, scared some good sense into me before leaving on the trip. That coupled with some research on the most common ways of kidnapping, and I was convinced that every taxi driver was taking us to our deaths, or at least going to drain my bank account after torturing me for hours to get my debt card pin number. So I am freaking out already during our first taxi ride, when our driver veers off the main road and starts going down a dirt one. "Awesome, robbed during the first hour of our trip," I'm thinking. Turns out, he just wanted to show us a beautiful view of La Paz. Glad I'm not prone to heart attacks. 

Las islas flotantes: Besides Machu Picchu, the floating islands were one of the coolest things that I saw. These people literally build the land using peat and reeds. And then they live on it. Seriously folks, go google this or something because it's nuts. I also got to ride on a reed boat during this adventure while the sun was setting and that was amazing! 

Just part of the crowd: It was really refreshing to blend into the crowd for once down here. Since we hit a lot of tourist attractions, I was never the only gringa and the locals were used to blondes. That is very different than here in Montero, where everyone stares at me -all the time. It was nice to not be unique for once!

Savor the moment: After a long stressful day of travel, while still recovering from almost not getting tickets to the dream of dreams, we got to relax in the hot springs outside of Machu Picchu. The little town we stayed in (appropriately called Machu Picchu Pueblo) is nestled in the rain forest, with towering mountains on every side. My house in Montero is lovely but there's not a whole lot of vegetation there so it was very refreshing to be surrounded by so much green! After some much needed relaxation, we got absolutely dumped on by a cool jungle rain. It was a very special moment, one with a lot of gratitude. I am so fortunate to have had this opportunity to travel and experience these beautiful countries and people -and to better myself, to stretch and grow, to find out what I am made of and what I can do. I don't take this trip for granted for a moment!

Pictures from the trip can be seen here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150351238347747.345008.562022746&type=1&l=18bfd49899

The Time I Interviewed Drunk Man and Other Short Stories

We FINALLY got to go out to el campo today! As I mentioned in my last post, we were supposed to spend three days out there but that was before the biggest, most intense thunderstorm of my life. That lasted. TWO. DAYS. I would have been willing to brave the weather but the roads out there were trashed, so no dice.

But today, Fabi and I headed out! I got to interview families and water committee members about the water systems -and folks, I did this all by myself  :) Etta Projects put in an expansive water systems in four villages a couple of years ago and it was amazing to hear how having clean, accessible water has changed these families' lives! One young mother told me that she used to have to carry gallon after gallon back to her house from the pump -in the blazing heat. I don't know if she took her young children with her or left them at home by themselves but either way, not a good situation. Now, all she has to do is walk out her front door and turn on her facet! So great.

It was soon after this visit that I ran into a man on my way to the next house. Fabi told me she was going to go find the president of the water committee so when this guy approached me, I assumed it was him. And then just in case it wasn't him, I asked him if he was the president of the water committee. He says yes and proceeds to tell me how he's in charge of blah, blah, blah. I'm starting to notice that he has a really strange accent...like he's slurring his words. And I'm thinking, "Shesh, this guy is going to be really hard to understand for a whole interview." But I've had some difficult interviews before so I ask him what he thinks of the water system. He thinks for a moment...and starts talking about my pink hat. Yikes. "Am I really that hard to understand??" At this point, Fabi waves at me to come from farther down the street. So I tell "the president" to hold on for a moment.  Fabi tells me he's drunk. And I feel stupid. But HE TOLD ME HE WAS THE PRESIDENT. Gah. So dumb!

After I interviewed the REAL president, it started to rain, really hard. And then there was thunder and lightening and wind. Fabi was worried about us making it back into town. Remember all that dust I talked about earlier? (See here -Oooo look, I got so fancy posting a link!) Well, it turns the roads into the equivalent of butter and our truck has a hard time churning through that stuff. We booked it out of there really fast.

On our way out, two soldiers ran out meet us. And I'm thinking that a Bolivian prison sounds like a miserable experience (although it would be a great blog entry!) but they just want a ride into town. So they hop in the back. "Eeeeexcellent," I think. Not because I enjoy a man in uniform (and shesh, I have a boyfriend people!) but because if we get stuck -they can push us out!

But we didn't get stuck, and we all made it back to town were I ate the best piece of chicken in my entire life. And we all lived happily ever after until the next blog post.

"You're not from here, are you?"

I get asked this question a lot. A lot. A lot. A lot. And if it's not the question, then it's the glance followed shortly by the double-take. The really gutsy people ask for a photo. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that.

This sequence of events doesn't usually bother me but what DOES bother me is this question: "She's not from here, is she?" Why does this bother me more? Because it's directed at whichever Bolivian I'm with at the time, meaning that this person is not only assuming that I'm not from here (which is a correct assumption -obviously) but that I can't speak Spanish. And I CAN speak Spanish. Usually, I speak up and tell them "Yes, I'm from the States."

Although this frustrates me, what really gets me is when the people still insist on speaking to my Latino comrades after I've already answered them in Spanish! "So, does she speak Spanish then?" I want to be snotty and retort, "No, I'm just speaking Spanish on accident. It's a total fluke." But I don't because I'm not rude. And because I know I've been an idiot with foreigners before too.

This whole conversation happened a few days ago when I was out to eat with two of my housemates, Guillermo and Fabi. After the woman finally figured out that I could communicate, she started telling me that her and her family are trying to move to the States because "Bolivia is a dirty place full of crime and it's just a terrible place for children. The culture of the United States is so much better than here. Everything is better in the United States."

Awkward! My Bolivian housemates are sitting right next to me while this woman is dissing her/their culture, town, and ultimately identity. Sure, there are things that are awesome about the States. I love the States and I especially love Washington. But I'm from that culture, I'm supposed to be biased. And there are things that are better in Bolivia. The way people just sit around and talk in the evenings for entertainment...the way mamas carry their babies close to their hearts....the motorcycle taxis....the ice cream. Those are great things!

Anyway, it was one of the weirdest experiences that I've had so far. Honestly, I was even offended that she was insulting the place that I chose to live for three months. Her comments stung because I love Bolivia.

Coming up next: I hope a bunch of stories from el campo! The team and I will be spending a lot of time out there for the next three days and I am excited!!

Do's and Don'ts

Do eat the ice cream. Everyday.

Don't use the ice.

Do learn to ignore the bugs.

Don't eat intestines.

Do miss Bellingham and fall.

Don't feel guilty about it.

Do invest in relationships.

Don't pet the animals.

Do go out in the town by yourself.

Don't do it at night.

Do speak Spanish as much as you can.

Don't be afraid to sound stupid.

Do say yes when people want you to hold their babies and take a picture of you.

Don't say yes when it's a man that wants a photo. Or your phone number.

Do miss home.

Don't miss it enough to not enjoy where you where you're at, the people you're with, or the country you're living in.

Suga Suga and Eat My Dust

I'm sitting in the living room right now, wondering if my ride to church is still coming. That's the thing about Bolivia -you never know if you just didn't understand correctly or if they are simply running on Latino time. I'm honestly debating whether or not I should go back to bed but I just had a cup of coffee so I think that option is probably out.

Anyway...I've been meaning to talk about the sugarcane on here for quite sometime. One of the first things I noticed when I got to Montero was the smell. While it's not as bad as manure or dying things, it is distinct and very strong. Guillermo informed me that it comes from the sugarcane refineries here in town. And while you might have an image from Charlie in the Chocolate Factory in your head, that's not quite accurate.

Sidenote: My ride is here!! Only an hour and half later than they said. I'll finish this later...  

Continued:
Montero is known as "The Sweet Town" and is the capital of sugarcane in Bolivia. It's very common to get stuck behind a huge truck loaded to the brim with stalks of burned sugarcane. That's right, burned sugarcane. Harvesters burn the cane to get rid of excess leaves and branches, leaving only the stalks intact. This makes the harvesting easier once they start hacking at it with machetes. Also gets rid of all the snakes (shudder). Snakes are worst than dogs. True story.

Anyway, supposedly the refineries and plantation owners are not supposed to accept burned cane, but it's obvious that this rule isn't enforced. Burning saves the harvesters from a lot of work and I was just reading that it's actually helped decrease child labor here because the harvest requires less workers. However, it can easily destroy whole forests full of monkeys, birds, and tropical foliage, leaving behind ugly, charred ground in its wake.

Often times when we are returning from el campo, there are whole fields burning. Once, I thought I was going crazy because it looked like it was snowing but it was actually just the ash falling from the sky. You can imagine what the smoke/ash combo does for the air quality here. Excuse me while I cough up a lung. Imagine the poor little ones out in el campo with asthma! I've heard many, many mothers complain that their children get sick from the smoke. It's also common to burn your garbage out there too, only aggravating the problem further.

The dust is the other thing that doesn't help the whole breathing thing. If we get stuck behind a huge truck full of cane or there's the slightest breeze, it's like the dustbowl of the 1930's all over again. Fabi can barely see well enough to drive.

Needless to say, I return SO filthy after a full day of work. The dust acts like I put on sunscreen just so it could stick to me. On the bright side, I look really tan if you're not looking too closely. And this type of tanning doesn't give you cancer, so it's pretty much win/win.

Although I'll probably just get cancer from all the Coke I'm drinking instead. You win some, you lose some, folks.

Struggle with Struggle

"Ours is a planet of polarity: the poor and the rich; the hungry and the well fed; the healthy and the terminally ill. Within these apparent contradictions we struggle for meaning. For dignity. For equality. The human story is built into this struggle...Yes, humanity's song is the absurd, the tragic, the comic; the profane and the beautiful; the fallen and the redeemed. Our society is fraught with inconsistencies and absurdities...The highs and lows, the dark and the light. This is the absurdity of our bipolar existence. Stretched thin between the dichotomy of death and breath, ashes and cash, pain and beauty. The scope of it all is enough to drive a man crazy. " -- Jon Foreman, in the article "Vice Verses: Making Art Out of Tension."

Today was a harder day in el campo, visiting the neighborhood of Paraiso. Paraiso means "paradise" but in this neighborhood, things are not what most of us consider to be paradise. I've often heard people say, after seeing someone living in poverty, "I learned to be happy without material things because these people just radiate joy and happiness." I think I've said this myself. And we're content with that because we've put a band-aid on the gaping wound of poverty, calling it "happiness despite."

But what do you do when the people aren't happy? When they are tired and defeated. When their baby is sick and the last cow just died. When they don't want to invite you into their homes because they're ashamed because they know you're at the other end of the dichotomy. The FAR end. And the truth is, you're ashamed too because "the scope of it all is enough to drive a man crazy."

I don't doubt God's plan but I don't claim to understand it either. Why was I given what I was? My family, my house, my car, my education? If you have an easy answer, I honestly don't want to hear it because this answer isn't easy. It can't be easy when the lives of some people are so hard.

I think we have to be ok with not knowing what God was planning when it looks like He divided the pie unequally, unjustly. I think where Christians run into trouble is when we try to answer these questions too quickly. I think we undermine peoples' suffering when we do that. We need to take the time to wrestle those answers out, to struggle with why people struggle.

Yikes, sorry folks. That may have been a downer. I'm just trying to do Bolivia justice.

Deep breath...publish.

Weekend Thoughts

I apologize ahead of time for the choppiness of this post! Some days, I feel like I've got the writing groove going on but today that groove has alluded me. But the weekend has come and gone so here we go!

Mirna invited me to go with her and her family to a concert in Santa Cruz on Saturday night. The first group to perform was pretty much the Bolivian version of the Backstreet Boys -only with matching orange and blue outfits. Their dance moves made me giggle, they were so sappy! But the sappiness was missed by every teenage girl there so I kept my giggling to a minimum. Not that I was heard over the screeching/screaming that was going on anyway.

The next group was a traditional Bolivian band and the crowd really went wild for them! They may be the equivalent of U2 in the States. They were pretty neat and I enjoyed them! But honestly, what I enjoyed most about the concert was this coconut milk popsicle thing I had. I'm telling you, these people know how to make ice cream, yogurt, and juice. Which, ironically are things that I cannot easily take back to the States with me. Rats.
 
After the concert, we headed further into the city of Santa Cruz. The last time I was in Santa Cruz was when my plane landed and I remembered not being super impressed by how nice it was. My coworkers kept saying, "Isn't this pretty? Look at that! How impressive, no?" And of course I would smile and nod but inside, I'm thinking "Yeah, it's nice but it's not amazing." Well, after a week in rustic Montero, my eyes were sure opened! Almost every store and street had me captivated by how beautiful and shiny everything was. There was even a shopping mall! Whoah, right? Country girl meets the city :)

We were able to go to a fair in Santa Cruz and it was there that I risked my life on a  ferris wheel. It wasn't until I got on the ride that it occurred to me that I was trusting rusty arms of steel to plummet me to earth just short of suicide. "IS THAT BOLT LOOSE?" There were way too many creaks and groans for my liking but it made what could have been a boring ride, anything but! I have to say though that the view from the top was incredible!

By this time, we were all hungry so we ate at a street side BBQ. And by BBQ I mean, there's a woman, with a decrepit grill, slices of meat, and a big pot of soggy rice. You sit yourself in the patio furniture and she serves you up. It's pretty crazy. It was here that I had my first taste of some sort of intestines. Folks, I cannot recommend them. Whatever the gray paste inside of them was, it was really, really...yucky. Not even Mirna's daughters ate them. I pulled the whole spit-it-out-in-your-napkin-while-acting-like-you're-wiping-your-mouth trick. Love that one.

Mirna's family was very, very hospitable and super nice to me. I cannot express in either of the languages that I know, what it means to be invited into a family for a night when you have barely known them for a week. It is definitely making me wish that I would have reached out to international students more when I was at WWU.

On Sunday, I was able to attend church here! The service was definitely different than what I am used to but it was great and I was able to understand the pastor without any problems. I also met two sisters and they've already invited me to go to a celebration with them next weekend. I'd like you to take a minute to appreciate whatever community/friends/family that YOU got to hang out with this weekend. Fellowship is something that I definitely don't take for granted here!

Ok, last thing and then I'll end this mammoth post: I had completely forgotten the custom of greeting a newcomer during church services in Latin America and so when the announcement guy started talking about "our newcomer, David" I was completely clueless -until one of the sisters told me to stand up. It was then that I caught on that I was David. The whole church then recited a greeting to me, while I turned a deep shade of scarlet. Luckily, I didn't have to say anything.

Phew, ok. Believe it or not that was my weekend in a nutshell. Good job if you got through all of that! I'll try to make the next one shorter :) Thanks for reading!

Frequently Asked Questions (and Injections!)

There are a lot of different questions that I get asked by friends and family, so I thought I'd cover a few of them here!

1) What's the food like?
A typical meal so far here is a slab of beef, some potatoes, and rice. Variations of this have been: a fried slice of meat, meat with a fried egg on top, fried chicken, and yuca. Yuca is like a potato, only drier and with a completely different flavor that I'm not going to try to explain. It's all been really good! OH! And Coca-Cola! SO MUCH Coke! We drink that more than Washingtonians drink coffee!

2) And the weather?
Goodness gracious, the weather here is the weirdest! It's almost always really, really, really hot. But every once in awhile, the wind will pick up and you need a light jacket. Or it will pour rain for five mins. Today I heard thunder too! To describe the weather in one word: Unpredictable. And hot :)

3) How is your Spanish?
Honestly, I am a little frustrated with it. It is hard to sound dumb all the time! But I know that it will improve and Helen just told me today that I'm doing better than she was when she first got here. I just need patience! I'm pretty happy with my comprehension, most of the time.

4) Why are you there again?
I'm completing an internship with Etta Projects so I can graduate with a Bachelors of Science in Community Health in December!  (PS My BA in Spanish is already complete, just in case you were confused!)

5) How long are you going to be there?
I'll be here until December 10th! Three months.

6) Do you miss people?
Um, YES! But technology has made being so far away pretty easy! And I haven't cried yet, so that's always good.

7) Are you safe?
Yes, mostly. I get stared at pretty often but I haven't felt threatened, except for once, when Helen and I went out after dark by ourselves (that lasted one block and then we turned around, back to the house!). Katie, my director, has been robbed at gunpoint twice but she is much more adventurous than I am. I don't carry a purse with me, ever. Honestly, I'm not that worried about it but I am trying to be wise! You are always safest where God wants you anyway!

8) What are your housemates like?
They are fun-loving group of people, for sure! Fabi has grown up in Montero her whole life and is a real jokester! Guillermo is originally from Peru - he is a fantastic cook and serenades us every night with his guitara. Helen is the other intern from Michigan. Her and I have bedrooms right across from each other and share a bathroom. She's great and plays the violin like nobody's buisness!

9) What's your address? And can you post pictures?
The mail here is really unpredictable so I'm not giving out my address. Sometimes it takes up to four months for something to get here, in which case -you can just give it to me when I come back! Pictures are on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150296639897747.333906.562022746&l=ad1b7d9dfe&type=1

10) Are you sick?
NO! I'm not! Que bueno, no? I do get some sharp pains in my stomach daily, so my stomach has noticed that something is different but other than that,  I've been totally fine! I'd like to thank close family friend, Jen Penrose for suggesting that I take pro-biotics. I think that they are working! And God for answering my prayers for a stomach of steel!


11) How was practicing injections yesterday?
Ok, so no one asked this, I just wanted to share :) It was great! We went to a village about two hours away with first aid kits for the neighboring seven communities. Each community has two health promoters that met us there to learn basic first aid -which here includes giving injections! I got to learn that too and practiced on my friend Mirna! It was awesome! Although that needle was seriously looooooong. And don't worry, I was fair and let her practice on me too! It was another great day!

Los Filtros de Agua

One thing (among many) that I love about Etta Projects is that we are a Bolivian organization, almost completely run by Bolivians. My Bolivian coworkers really take a lot of pride in this and are quick to correct anyone who says otherwise. It is so important to me to work for an organization that incorporates the input and opinions of local people. It makes no sense to come into a country as knight is shining armor, pretending to know what these people need and want, when you have never experienced what their daily life is like.

Anyway, I said all that to say that whenever I go out to survey people, I try to have a local health promoter go with me. This helps with many aspects of the work that I do here, but also leaves the people someone in the community with a connection to Etta once I go home. Plus, I honestly need the help!

My promoter for the water filter project was Dona Victoria and our goal was to visit at least five families in the town, El Rodeo. I was disappointed that the first few families were not using their water filters at all because the handle on the faucets were broken or the bucket portion of the filter was cracked.

To be completely honest, sometimes I have a hard time not judging some of these families. I know that life in el campo is hard but some families take better care of their belongings and children than others. Mirna (the secretary here and my Bolivian mother) says "es un problema de caracter" -a problem of character.

One family in particular was living in horrible conditions. There were dogs, and garbage all over -even chickens in the beds! The children were half naked with snotty noses and the baby's eyes were caked with dirt and flies. This family's water filter was completely disassembled and the mother of the family didn't seem like she cared about anything. It's not my place to judge -I don't know what her life is like or how she grew up but I do pity her children. And really, I pity her as well because you must have been through hell to be that defeated. Sometimes I think what people need is hope, and that doesn't come out of a water filter. Although I could say a few things about the Living Water. 

It was at this house that one of the family's dogs jumped out and bit Mirna (who went with me).
I was ready to hit the dog over the head but Mirna just shrugged and said, "It's a good thing I'm wearing jeans!" And everyone else acted like nothing happened! I. Was. In. Shock. But I'm always trying to be culturally aware so I tried to hide my horror over what happened. And I think I failed.

Despite families like this one, there were some families that were still using their filters, which is pretty good considering that they received them over a year and a half ago. One family in particular was just the cutest. The young mother was so proud of her water filter, even pouring us a glass so we could try the water. She raved and raved about both her filter and her new bathroom. It was really encouraging! Hopefully, her little boy will grow up healthy and with better opportunities! With the right tools -and enough hope- I know that all the families in el campo could have these results!

El Campo and the F-Bomb

Yesterday, Fabi, Guillermo, Marco, Helen and I headed off to el campo (the country) for a community wide sports day. At first, I wasn't sure I should count this as hours for my internship but after the day was over, I came to the conclusion that my view of Community Health work is too narrow. At first, it doesn't make sense that a sports day could be part of Community Health but yesterday I saw six villages come together to compete, cheer, and afterward give each other rides home on their motorcycles. This was, without a doubt, community building and you can't have Community Health without a community. Fabi said that these communities used to have a "fend for yourself" attitude but through the work of Etta Projects, they are coming together to create something stronger and better.

I love el campo. It may not make sense, because honestly, it is really dirty, really hot, and really dusty (not to mention that there are dogs all over -ugh) but I wish I could go out there everyday! The kids there are just the best. I was able to bring a frisbee all the way from the states and the kids had never seen one before! I hope you all get the chance to introduce someone to one of your favorite things in the world because it is the best feeling ever! I had to teach them how to throw it and even how to catch it! I think they thought it was a plastic plate when I first brought it out. You should have seen their faces when I threw it across the field! I felt like the Michael Jordan of frisbee with the way they were cheering :) When I left, all of them asked me when I was coming back and would I POR FAVOR (please) bring "el fisbe" with me?

Other memorable parts of the day would be riding un moto (motorcycle). I have wanted to do that since I've been here and yesterday was my first opportunity. A nice young man named Roberto took me on a little tour of the village and it was exhilarating. I made all the kids laugh when I put my arms out and waved them like I was flying. Sometimes, you just have to make a fool of yourself to experience something to the fullest, you know?

In other more embarrassing news, yesterday I managed to drop the f-word and also said that I was sexually aroused -all within in the same hour. It was a language thing, and I realized what I had done as soon as I said it but the damage was done and I left all my coworkers howling with laughter. In the future, I will remember to use a different verb for "catch" and to say that I feel hot, not that I am hot. Lessons learned, folks!

To end the day, we got invited to eat with the patriarch of a village called La Patria. It is a very humbling experience to know that this man, whose house most Americans wouldn't even camp in, is sharing his food with you. His granddaughter served us coffee and cheese, while I fervently prayed that I wouldn't do something stupid, the memories of the f-bomb experience still fresh in my mind!

Other good memories include:  Holding my first Bolivian baby, driving the truck by myself through el campo, and translating the Fight Club into English for my coworkers. And just in case you haven't noticed yet, I still like it here! I got to start interviewing families about their water filters today, which I will describe in detail tomorrow (are you getting tired of me pulling these Ryan Seacrest moments?). I'll leave you with the teaser that someone gets bit by a dog.

Ugh. Dogs. 

Independiente

Yesterday was quite the day! I was expecting to spend most of the day around the house because Katie was unable to take me places. But pretty much as soon as I appeared downstairs, she handed me her house keys, a map, and her cellphone and told me to hit the town. So, I did!

I set out thinking I would just walk to the supermercado (super market) because I had already been there with Katie and so I knew what to look for and what to expect. My walk there was very eye-opening and the time alone gave me lots of time to process and absorb the sights of the town. Only calling this place a town is somewhat inaccurate, I feel like it is more city-like than I expected. There is quite the diversity of people, for one thing. There's a large Mennonite community here, so we have the white, blue-eyed blondies and then there's also the indigenous Quechua people as well, whose women always wear brightly colored skirts and have two long, dark braids down their back. And then there's me, who despite the variety of the streets still manages to stick out.

So there I was, out on my own in a foreign country, INDEPENDENT for the first time. It was really neat. There are a lot of contrasts here. Some houses are beautiful, with courtyards and fancy cars, while others have burros and countless dogs and garbage all over. But the diversity made the walk interesting. I'm trying really hard not to look like a tourist but sometimes I just couldn't help but pull out my camera while trying to close my wide open jaw.

One of the best parts of the walk was finding an evangelical church. I had just been praying that morning that God would provide a church community for me here and hadn't found anything by using "the google." And then, not even three hours later on the main street of Montero, is a white iglesia with the words "evangelico" in big blue letters. I am excited to try it out next Sunday! Praise God that He provides so completely.

Once I arrived at the supermercado, I wandered around and looked at all of the different products. One of my favorite things is seeing American things translated into Spanish. Like Herbal Essence shampoo with the titles "adicta al color." Eventually, I decided that buying some bread, jam, and peanut butter would be a great thing -easy to pack for lunches! Only I could not for the life of me remember how to say peanut butter in Spanish, nor could I find it. I knew how to say butter though and eventually the store manager figured out what I was trying to say ("brown, salty, butter -hahaha). But they were all out. So next time I will have to go back and ask for "crema de mani."

After my shopping trip, I headed to the plaza, where I drank my newly acquired pineapple juice in a bag. You partake in the sweet goodness by ripping a corner off the bag with your teeth and sucking out the juice. It's real, real good. Right up there with drinkable yogurt.

I arrived back at the house, feeling pretty proud of my new found independence! Once my groceries were put away, drunk on my new freedom, I decided to walk all the way to the open air market, which is close to ten blocks away. This was WAY too far on 100 degrees day but I was determined to go. I had to ask for directions once but I finally made it.

Folks, the open air market is just the Coolest. Thing. Ever. There's EVERYTHING there and it's all over the place. There's whole butchered chickens, shoes, school supplies, veggies, and an entire tienda (shop) of pink Valentine bears. Yup, the entire store is just pink bears. I bought a tomato from a woman and her daughters. I'm going to try to be one of their regular customers because I like them :)

The walk home was really long and hot. I had to stop at the supermercado to buy a soda because I was going to pass out. The employee that had helped me with the peanut butter recognized me and waved, probably thinking what a crazy gringa :)

I was exhausted once I got back to the house. By this time I think I had been gone somewhere between 3-4 hrs. And I hadn't eaten lunch and it was four. So I started to make some beans and tortillas but Guillermo (or Yermo as we call him) made ceviche, which is raw fish, soaked in lemon juice and onions. It sounds gross but it was so good. I ate two plates. We''ll see how the tummy does with that! I keep praying for a stomach of steel. But so far so good! So far so good, where everything is concerned here, in my opinion :)