Sketches

Here are a few stories, sketches, that I hope to keep tucked away in my memory:

-There is a 3 year old named Alejandra, usually shortened to Ale. She now only answers to 'Aleluyah'. Also, she pronounces my name 'Manilla' which in Bolivia means 'bracelet'.

-Upon walking one of our three-year olds to pre-school this week, I asked her in an overly excited voice: "What are you going to do today in class?" And she replied matter-of-factly: "Oh, we are going to color. And cry." "Cry?" I inquired. "Yah, cry." Upon arriving at the school (as the new school year is underway), I understood what she had meant; everyone was crying and screaming for their mothers who were leaving. Apparently she processed it as a class activity.

-Whenever one of the girls has a birthday, I am in charge of making her a birthday present out of a closet of donations. Two weeks ago, I was in there making a gift, when all of a sudden I heard some scurring in a cardboard box that I had stuck my hand into. Yep, those are mice feet, I thought. Well, I don't really need anything from there today... The more I thought about it, the more I was just annoyed about having to try and locate a Bolivian mouse-trap. I would have to search all over the market, I probably wouldn't understand how to set it, and then I would have to discard the dead body... When all of a sudden, a 6 year-old came to the closet door, and I explained that I had found a mouse. With the sweetest voice, and a concerned (but very excited) face, she asked "Do you want me to go get a cat?" Ah! A cat! Brilliant! A Bolivian 'mouse-trap'! "Yes, yes, wonderful." In the meantime I moved the cardboard box out into the open, and the 6-year old returned, looking so so proud of herself. She had brought back our biggest cat, barely able to hold him in her arms. It was perfect, as I tipped the cardboard box, the mouse jumped out and the cat was released! (There also happened to assemble a gaggle of 5-10 year old girls as an audience). Within seconds the cat had pounced on the running mouse, and was playing with it, with all of the girls screaming their heads off. They all followed the cat (into the kitchen of all places) to watch him eat. The sister of the first girl, an 11-year old, came up to me with a kitten to explain that he needed to get some meat too! They sure can be thoughtful.

Bethleham

First, Feliz Navidad to all of my family and friends. I pray God blessed you with a Christmas filled with laughter and love!

Everything about Christmas this year was different. There weren't any final exams to prepare for, architecture projects to sleeplessly slave over. There weren't any baked goods, or traditional Christmas food. No snow (in fact it is sweltering here, unbearably hot and humid), no tree. And there weren't any family or friends with which to share Christmas.

Most days I forgot Christmas was coming. The only way I knew that it truly was that time of year was the daily shopping I was doing for 145 girls' gifts, and prayer. What a gift the season of Advent is - a time to be reminded daily that we are called to joyfully await Jesus - for His birth on Christmas, but also to await Him daily, and be joyful about how He decides to show Himself to us in small moments. In reflection during the Advent season, I realized what a special Christmas I was being invited to celebrate: I wasn't in my cozy home, surrounded by family and friends, or enjoying old traditions that our family always enjoyed. I was in Bethleham. I was surrounded by poverty - material poverty and spiritual poverty. I could more easily feel and visit the barn of His birth. Besides being away from comforts, I could more easily relate to Mary and Joseph, being strangers in a foreign land on Christmas Eve. Jesus was asking me to wait for Him there - in Bethleham.

The big celebration in Bolivia happens on Christmas Eve "Noche Buena". We attended a 10 pm Mass celebration, complete with a living Nativity scene, lots of incense and holy water. After walking home from Church, we enjoyed a traditional pork feast. It was a little like New Year's because all of a sudden the nuns started shouting "It's midnight! It's midnight!" and there were endless fireworks to celebrate Jesus' birth. After dinner, all of the girls stayed up, and we placed Jesus in the Navitity scene (pesebre), and danced traditional Bolivian dances in front of it. As it was explained to me, we dance for Jesus out of overflowing joy and gratitude; it is a really beautiful tradition.

On only 2 or 3 hours of sleep, my site partner and I hid stockings we had made under all of the girls beds - mostly candy, school supplies, and kleenex (yes, kleenex are scented here, and they just love smelling them). I dumped tiny styrofoam pieces all over the volunteer's kitchen to insure my site partner didn't have to suffer being away from a "white Christmas". And a one-hour nap later, my site partner and fellow SLM volunteers were busy making breakfast for the girls: chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate!

In the afternoon, Papa Noel came to hand out the gifts we had been working on for the past two months. The girls received a new outfit and a new backpack or messenger bag for school. Then we got to go to Mass again (with all of the girls wearing their new outfits... so cute!). When we returned home, we all watched The Grinch (5-10 year olds) and The Elf (10+). The older girls were unsure of Elf, but I was tickled that the humor was cross-cultural, and they were laughing hard through the whole thing.

Skyping with my family was hard, but it was a blessing to be able to see them and talk to them on Christmas. I know for them, the 'giving' of me this year was a powerful reminder of Christmas. All in all, it was a very blessed Christmas, and one that will always be special, as it is the Christmas I shared with the girls here at the Hogar.

Kids say the darnest things

Being around kids, caring for them, and trying to be a motherly figure of sorts can be challenging, and draining... they are always asking you for something more, always complaining, fighting, stealing, etc, etc. However, working with kids also brings such an amazing joy and purpose, and they often make me laugh. In particular, there is one little 7-year old who especially makes me laugh. For her privacy sake, I will just call her Maria (by far the most popular name here).

Within my first month of arriving at the Hogar, Maria came and found me after dinner one night asking for a band-aid. (Side information: many of the girls ask for band-aids for two reasons: either they just want a cool colored band-aid with princesses, or they are so thirsty to be loved and cared for one-on-one, so they will make something huge out of nothing). I didn't really think Maria needed a band-aid for this scratch, and so I tried to ask her if she had shown my site partner, as she is the nurse. And she replied (whiny tone): "Yes, I showed Andrea, but she told me that she didn't have time for me." I had to try not to laugh as I knew my site partner would never say that... and Maria was just saying what she needed to say to get what she wanted.

In late October, Maria was baptized into the Catholic Church, and I saw her in the hallway that night, getting ready for bed, and when I passed her I said "Congratulations Maria!" And she had such a smug grin on, and with all of her weight on one side, hand on the hip, she turned around and said "Your welcome!"

Or, when we were praying before dinner. All of the girls line up based on which dormitory they live in, and Maria is small, so she is at the front. She had her back erect, shoulders squared, looking straight ahead... and yelling the Hail Mary as if it was a reply to a army general's command. Then she crossed herself in sharp movements to finish off her 'soldier' prayer! I literally had to turn away from the girls, I couldn't help but laugh.

And then on Christmas night... All of the dormitories had received one big gift from us volunteers for them to share; but we had kept the gift from the 5-10 year old room (Santa Ana), because they were fighting and stealing each other gifts. Maria came up to the open window where my site partner and I were, and said "When are we going to get our gift?" And we replied, "Not today, when you guys start behaving better, we will give it to you." And she spat back: "Well, you should know that all of the girls in Santa Ana are in their beds crying right now because of you!"

And this last week, Maria was telling my site partner and I that someone had stolen a pair of underwear that we had given her for the holidays, and with huge eyes, described how she had put them under her mattress before going to bed, but how someone had stolen them in the night! (Actually could of happened, or maybe she just lost them). I asked her when her birthday was (as we give them 2 more pairs of underwear on their birthdays) and she just had a blank stare... and it is really common that the girls don't know their birthdays, so my site partner was like, "Do you know your birthday?" And Maria snapped into life and was like "Sunday!! Sunday is my birthday," matter-of-factly.

She always makes me laugh.

The madness that is Trufis

Transportation in Bolivia. There are many modes to get around, here in the tropical lowlands. Some I prefer more than others, some can be truly... how shall we say?... character-building, and all of transportation has enhanced my awareness of my reliance and trust in God.

First, there is by foot, a common and free way to get around Montero. I enjoying walking the mile or so to the main plaza to run errands for the girls. And the mercado is a thing of its own, with all kinds of sights, smells, haggling to be had. The only real problem with this mode of transportation is when there is a torrential tropical rain, and the sewer-less streets (both paved and dirt roads) flood to mid-shin. Things get a little more interesting.

Then there is moto-taxi, the main form of public transportation in Montero. You hail a motorcycle, and as a woman, ride side-saddle to your destination. On a hot, humid day there is nothing like the wind from a moto ride.

In the larger, more cosmopolitan, locales of Bolivia (like Santa Cruz and Sucre) there are city buses called micros, as well as public taxis and private taxis.

But the form of transportation that is uniquely Bolivian, is the trufi. Trufis are essentially revamped station wagons (although they come in the form of cars and vans too) with little 'improvements' made to them: the front seat sits two passengers instead of one, there is the normal three-across backseat, along with two more behind the backseat. And not to mention the re-engineered motor, that runs on straight natural gas instead of gasoline (which involves gas with oil). In fact, the changes with the fuel intake are quite ingenious, as Bolivia has gas, but no oil, and a trufi driver can fill up a large station wagon for just over 3 USD. (Sidenote: I don't know what it does to the environment). Despite which seat you get, trufi rides are almost always uncomfortable. The seats farthest back get little air flow, the three-across are always cramped, and the front is always hot with air from the engine blowing on your legs.

However, probably the worst thing about trufis is getting one. Many people travel between Montero and Santa Cruz daily (an hour drive) for work, shopping, school, etc. And it gets vicious if you want a seat. I mean vicious. At first when I was told this, I thought, "Well, I can just take them as they come, I am supposed to be a gentle observer to the culture...missionary spirit...etc, etc." However on my first trufi ride to Santa Cruz, I saw our director, a nun of the Church, literally elbow people out of the way to get in a trufi. Well! They weren't kidding!

So I have had to learn to "play the game" sort of speak... at least that is what I tell myself after I snag the last two seats for my partner and I. At times, I have put my years of basketball to good use with solid boxing-out as if I were fighting for a rebound (and then I remember it is for a seat in a crowded car). Literally, sticking my butt out and ignoring 40-50 year old Bolivian woman pushing on my back and calling me 'choca' and expecting me to move because they are older than me. One ride, I was going to sneak in the very back with two other volunteers I was with (only 2 seats), when another woman was already trying to sit with them. She refused to listen to the fact that they were my friends, and I was going back there, and I had to resort to firmly pulling her out of the car door by her upper arm (as I cringed from being so aggressive to a 35-40 year old lady). "Just playing the game... playing the game..." I told myself.

But I refuse to stoop to the level of one trufi 'etiquette'. And that is running to an approaching trufi. It is quite humorous actually, as these older, usually large woman, in traditional Bolivian campesina outfits, break out into a sprint to make sure to snag a seat. I distinctly remember my first impressions: "Wow! They are running! Running! For a seat in a car... Very humorous, but a little bit sad and degrading." They will even run holding onto the door handles or better yet, swing the door open as the car is still moving. Quite insane.

In early December, I was headed to Santa Cruz to do some last minute Christmas shopping for the girls with two other volunteers. You could feel the tension in the air growing, as there weren't any trufis; we were all headed to the same spot to Christmas shop (the feria). (I wonder if this is what the lines feel like on Black Friday at 3 in the morning?). Finally! A van... I remember thinking, "We have to get on that van, it could be another 30 or 60 minutes until another one shows up." And all of a sudden... I realize I had a hold of the front seat door handle. I look over my shoulder and there were 10, 20 people clamoring to get in the back, "How is no one fighting me for this door handle?" And then it hit me: I had ran! Not only did I run to the car... I ran along side the car. Holding onto the car... A part of me was mortified. But a larger part of me was so excited that I had beat out 20 people for these front two seats!! Ha! I did it! Haha! I just kept running with the van, as my site partner caught up. Instead of being embarrassed, I climbed into the van, super proud and laughing out loud at myself.

When in Bolivia...

In the developing world...

For Thanksgiving day, I wrote a letter to my whole extended family... to be read out loud after the meal. At first I started the letter as a way to be present to my family from so far away on a special holiday, but it became a beautiful gift to reflect on things while living in the developing world. I felt compelled to share it here on the blog, as well:

Hello Family!

Happy Thanksgiving! This morning, my site partner, Andrea, and I are heading over to the convent to cook a traditional Thanksgiving meal for the nuns we work with. We will be cooking all morning, along with 2 other volunteers. We purchased a turkey in a big city an hour from here, so we are excited about that. We are also going to be making sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, and 2 apple pies! Also, the nun in charge of the whole order (flew in from Poland) will be here, so we have a lot of people to impress! I am just so excited to be eating food similar to you guys today, as I will be thinking about you all day! When discussing beverages that we could serve, I asked for sparkling apple cider! (totally out of the question here). :)

I really want to find some time today to reflect on everything that I am thankful for in this past year... there is so many blessings to count, and also blessings that I am not mindful of or aware of to count. First of all, I am thankful for my family, immediate and extended! What a huge blessing, one of God's great gifts to me that He gave me a family who loves each other, takes care of each other, family who I know will always be there for me (even if it does mean that they support me going to a developing country for a year). Working at an orphanage has only enhanced my appreciation for my family and my parents. These things are not givens here. And so many don't have parents, or their parents abuse them, or abandon them. It is painful to see what a child's soul looks like who does not know true unconditional love.

Also, living in Bolivia has given me a new found appreciation and thanksgiving of conveniences that make living easier - things that are so easy to look over in the everyday. For instance, I am thankful for running water, for sewer systems, for a hot shower, and a shower with decent water pressure. For sinks with ribbed sides to wash your clothes (instead of soley using the heel of your hands)... let alone a washer and dryer. Potable water. Dentists and flouride. I am thankful to be an American, and to be as blessed as we are in our country. Also, despite America's continuing fight to rise above racism, I am thankful for our acceptance of others of different skin color, and our tolerance and embracing of differences in people, our respect for the gift of creativity and the liberation that this can grant us to be individuals.... and I need to say that I am so thankful for real coffee, for chocolate, for great tasting food, and growing up with enough money to eat a balanced diet. Here in Bolivia, one of the ways that God is asking me to be in solidarity with His poor is by sharing in their all-white diet, and gaining weight from eating only bread, rice, milk, pasta. I never fully appreciated having the money to buy vegetables, fruit, and whatever meat whenever I wanted.

I am thankful for finally graduating from architecture school! And for God asking me to go on this mission. It is very challenging every day, and there are definitely days when I ask Him what He wants me to be doing here?, why me?, why here? But I am still so thankful for His continual love, for Him calling me to try and lead out my Christian life, for Him asking me to love His children who others refuse to love. I know that through this mission, God is calling me closer to His heart, and I feel so lucky and blessed that He knows me (better than I know myself), and loves me (and boy, does He love me, more than I can comprehend, just as He loves each and every one of you). It is a gift to be living in these circumstances in Bolivia, as each day, each moment I need to rely solely on Him for all; and even if I don't think it in a moment, I am learning more and more that His love is sufficient, because it is unending. And I just need to trust that He knows what I need, and if I don't receive it, I know I don't need it, I only need Him.

I am sending a huge, huge American bear hug to each of you. Happy Thanksgiving! Feast extra on my behalf! I love you all, and miss you, and am thinking of you. May you rest in His arms always, knowing that His yoke is light, and may you draw any love or patience that you don't feel you can give from His Sacred Heart, which can supplement our mere human efforts; it has the power and Love to buoy us up on stormy waters with strength to persevere!

I love you,

Melia

Happy Thanksgiving!

This Thursday is Thanksgiving in the United States... a much beloved holiday that is solely an American tradition. I think for this reason, it is one of the holidays that can be hardest to be away from home for; this year in Bolivia will be no different.

However, although I will be away from my family, I have been extremely blessed with another family here in Bolivia: my fellow Salesian Lay Missioners. Two weekends ago, fourteen of the fifteen volunteers in Bolivia traveled to a nearby town called Yapacani (three from Cochabamba had to take an overnight bus). It was so wonderful to make our own Thanksgiving together, and to celebrate this family holiday with friends who I am so blessed to have. We were able to share stories from our respective sites, laugh together at mishaps, sufferings, or funny things our children did, and we were blessed with time to talk about our specific missions, and where God was challenging us and asking us to change ourselves.

Each site pair brought their own dish: the three girls from Cochabamba cooked the main dish, a chicken pasta deliciousness. And a married couple who work here in Montero at the daycare and technical institute did a fantastic job at recreating traditional food with things they found here in the market - homemade stuffing, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and even Bolivian-style sweet potatoes. My site partner and I took on two desserts. We made a pumpkin dessert roll with cream cheese frosting, and a layered pudding/banana/cookie creation. Our meal was also completed with amazing apple pie, apple crisp, and little cookies that looked like turkeys! We even got to go around and say what we were thankful for, almost the best part of the day (I would be lying if I didn't admit I loved trying so many desserts)! It was a really special "Thanksgiving" - eating under mango trees, and breaking bread with people who lift me up, make me laugh, people who share so many of my values, and understand my heart.

And for the actual Turkey Day, the couple who live here in Montero, and my site partner and I are going to create a traditional American Thanksgiving meal for the nuns we work with here in Montero. We had to drive an hour away to Santa Cruz to get a turkey, but I think it will all be delicious (the couple are fabulous cooks). It will be really fun to share one of our traditions here in Bolivia.

Provecho!

The Princess and the Frog

So, November 6th was my site partner's birthday, and it happened to be our day off for the week. It was really nice, we just had a quiet, slow day to refill for the upcoming week. We ate lunch with the girls who live in the off-site house (a home for 20 of the Hogar girls). They prepared us a traditional Bolivian dish which was delicious: pollo picante. And in the evening, my site partner really wanted to watch The Princess and the Frog with the girls in the Hogar (we have an all Spanish version).
So as she was preparing the film, and getting cookies ready to hand out to all who came, two girls stopped me in a hallway to show me that a frog had hopped into the Hogar. I was a little surprised that they stopped me, because 1. there are frogs all over the place at night, and you have to be careful not to step on them; and 2. the girls would have no problem picking up the frog (to throw it at someone, most likely). So why they felt compelled to show me the frog seems Providential. Because I told the girls that they should capture the frog and give it to the birthday girl from them, before the movie. I didn't even need to explain the idea much more, they quickly caught on, and exclaimed "It's her prince"!
Once in the TV room, at this point with 30 or 40 girls already there, I explained that the girls had a birthday gift. And they presented a frog to her; whereby then I started chanting "Kiss it! Kiss it!" And to everyone's surprise, she did!! All the girls screamed at the top of their lungs. And when I exclaimed that I didn't get a picture, my site partner kissed it again, making all the girls shriek, equally as loud as the first time. It was such an awesome moment, because so much of our days are spent playing the 'Mom' role, disciplining, or showing tough love. But everyone was laughing together, and I will always cherish sharing that memory with the girls!