First Fridays

On the first Friday of each month, it is a popular tradition in Bolivia to have a k'oa. A k'oa is a ritual offering to the Pachamama in which a “mesa” is burned over coals. The “mesa” consists of incense, decorated sugar cubes, llama fat, native herbs and various other objects, depending on what you’re asking Pachamama (Mother Earth) for. You may want to be blessed with the following things: health, fertility (or more specifically, to have a boy child!!), successful business, love, money, a job, a house, a car or motorcycle, etc. In this blended world of Spanish enforced Catholicism and indigenous faiths, many people also go to Mass as part of their first Friday.
Here is my attempt to show you my most recent experience of a first Friday.

I celebrated with my work team and my boss, Enrique, who is both Quechua and a Jesuit priest. The first picture shows the flower sellers. We seem to enjoy gorgeous flowers year-round. I like it! People buy flowers to put before the images in the chapel, either for the saint of the day or for the virgin Mary. The second picture shows the line of faithful Catholics waiting for their turn to give/offer flowers or be blessed with holy water. In the background and to the sides, you can see the crosses in the far distance on the side of the mountain or the vendors who sell all kinds of things for this festive event. (I asked why there were so many crosses on the mountainside, and my companions informed me that it was "calvario" , symbolic of Calvary, and did I want to climb the mountain to give homage? Hm. I looked down at my skirt and sandals, then up at the rainclouds. In a society where a blunt "no way" is not used, I simply said, "Maybe next time.")

If you don't know what you're doing, it can seem a bit chaotic. Luckily I was surrounded by guides, so I really only had to listen and observe.

After Enrique said Mass at the chapel, he joined us under our coveted spot - a hastily assembled tarp which served as our watering hole. Did I mention that alcohol is involved? As part of the ritual, many people drink beer or chicha (chee-cha), a fermented corn beverage. (Someday I will tell you how they make chicha. It isn't pretty.) When someone hands you a cup of yummy, you first offer/toast a few drops to the Pachamama. The rest is yours.

After a round or two of beer, we decided it was time to "k'oa", and Enrique went off in search of the necessary elements. He quickly came back with coal and a work-themed 'mesa'. He explained the different objects (most likely for my benefit) in the mesa and then we all gave thanks - for work, for the friendships we've made by working at the community center, for the opportunities made available to us simply by being present for our clients, and for strength to continue to do such emotional work. A bag of coca leaves was passed around for those who wanted to chew it or offer it on the mesa. Usually, you try to find 'perfect leaves' to offer to the Pachamama. I love this picture. I think it manages to capture the thoughtfulness of the ritual.
Our whole team placed the mesa on the fire. Typically, a man and a woman do this (to symbolize balance - there is a male and female proponent to most things in the Andean cosmovision). I appreciated being a part of it; for me it was very moving. After you put the mesa on the fire, you then toast the Pachamama four times, in the directions of north-west -south-east, counterclockwise. After everyone in the group has had a chance to do the toast, or ch'allar, the party begins in earnest.
Our group drank some beer, then shared a meal, and after the meal we drank some chicha. Since the meal consisted mainly of chicharron (pig parts), I abstained from eating and was therefore feeling a bit woozy. But I rallied like the best of Wisconsinites.
All in all, it was a great day where I felt very connected to Bolivia and its peoples.

This last shot is of my coworker Grace and I. She likes to joke that it is a picture of cafe y leche - coffee and milk. Ha.

Disclaimer: this was just one of my experiences of k'oa. I've seen in celebrated in many different ways. There are some elements of the tradition that will always be present, but the way in which the k'oa is carried out may vary.

For me, celebrating the k'oa has deepened my understanding of the rich Andean culture that is infused in the Cochabamba valley.

Celebrating Thanksgiving in Coch

My organization celebrated Thanksgiving a couple of days early. We got together with the other entities - the religious fathers, brothers, and sisters - so it was quite a gathering. There was a lot of great food, a couple of attempts to re-create what we are used to in the U.S., and a wonderful reflection time where we thought about and expressed what we were thankful for. I am so grateful for all of you, my family and friends!

My contributions to the feast were some green bean casseroles and a huge crunchy green salad. It took me most of the day to make enough for the 35+ people who gathered together, so it was gratifying that everything was gone at the end of the dinner. Enjoy the pictures.



One holiday down, one to go!

Uuuuh, donkey milk?

There are a lot of strange things that happen here. Here is little story about one of them: Every day, on my commute to work, I´ve noticed a corner where there are 3-4 donkeys and their owner just hanging out. My friend Emily told me that this is the famous spot in Cochabamba to buy donkey milk. Huh? Did you read that right? Yes, indeed you have. The woman literally milks the donkey and hands a cup of the steaming milk over to you for just 5 bolivianos (about US $0.70). What is the draw here? During a cab ride, I asked one of my Bolivian coworkers if this was a popular drink. She made a face, but the cab driver jumped right into the conversation, explaining that donkey milk was known to cure all sorts of things, like diabetes and arthritis. It was also great for your skin. I asked him how it tasted, and he exclaimed, "It´s delicious!" Part of me wanted to laugh out loud, but I held it in as I didn´t want to offend this sweet old gentleman. Another part of me was gagging. Is this one of those instances where you say, ¨Don´t knock it until you´ve tried it?" I have to say, I found this fascinating. I even went so far as looking this up online - and sure enough, there are people out there who advocate for donkey´s milk, saying it is more nutritious than cow´s milk. I´m still not about to get in line for a cup!

Over the hump?

It's been awhile since I've updated my blog. . . sorry to my loyal readers. I have been almost completely consumed with work and trying to have a bit of a social life. For about 1.5 months, I was working two jobs, trying to figure out which one I should stick with. One was at a domestic violence transitional living center for women, the other was at a community center/social justice center. I was getting sick a lot more often because I was run down and over-extended. So, after some soul-searching and chatting with a few seasoned missioners, I parted ways with the women's living center and am currently focusing on the community center. I am working in the social promotion program, which basically means I am working with families in the neighborhood. We try to meet the various needs - educational scholarships, making sure kids get meals by signing them up for the food program, helping widows pay their electricity bills, giving workshops on various topics so that people know their rights, and really just listening to people. It has been quite rewarding so far. Some days are really intense - I love going on house visits, but it is hard for me to see how people are forced to live and when they break down and cry, I cry right along with them. Luckily, there are often glimmers of hope in even the darkest of situations.
Halloween isn't too big here, but I was invited to a party filled with other gringos. I dressed up as a bunch of grapes.
It was fun for the initial reactions I received, but I quickly realized that I couldn't move through the room without bumping into lots of people. Happily, I had talked to my sister earlier in the day and she had suggested to not put too many balloons near my bum, and I was able to sit down, although not too comfortably.
All Saints/All Souls is a much bigger deal. On midday of the first of November the gates of heaven are open so that the dead return to earth, where they will remain until midday of the second of November. Families and friends of the deceased usually prepare a table filled with a special bread called "tantawawas", it also has fruits, candies, drinks and the photographs of their dead relatives, so that they are able to come and share for a while these things. All these preparations are made in the home of the families and afterwards they go to the cemetery where their relatives are buried taking with them the different "offerings". In the cemetery you will find children singing and praying for the souls, if you give them some money or some food they will pray or sing for your dead relatives. In some places in the rural areas the bones of dead relatives will be taken out of the ground so that they receive the offerings in a more direct way.
All Saints ratifies the Andean balance between the living and the dead. The dead or rather, the spirits, watch over their living relatives and these must respect and honor the memories of the deceased. The breads, candies and drinks – especially the chicha- are food that can be good for the dead in special dates like this. It is a really cool celebration. I thought it was going to be morbid - it was anything but!
The other social thing I tried to set up is a bowling league. I figured I should take advantage of living in the center of Cochabamba while I can and since there is a bowling alley near my home, it seemed like a good idea. I sent out emails trying to drum up interest and picked a day of the week that the alley was typically slow. I should use the term 'league' loosely. We don't have proper teams, as the people who attend week to week vary. But there are a few loyal players and hopefully with a bit more time, we'll formally get a league going. Wish me luck!
I've been in Bolivia for roughly 11 months now. There have been ups and downs. (more ups, thankfully!) I feel like things are falling into place and hope that I am over the hump in the biggest parts of culture shock. Although, the holidays ARE right around the corner . . . hm!

New Home

I moved! Here are some pictures of my new home. I am renting this place (Michelle, too) from a Bolivian woman for a few months. It is in a central location here in Cochabamba, which is nice as I am still figuring out where I want to work, live more permanently, etc., and it isn't too much of a commute to get anywhere so far. The sequence is: my front door & wall, inner door, gardens, living room, office space, kitchen, dining area, the hallway that runs the length of the house, the bedrooms and bathroom, the laundry areapatio area and the patio area. The set up is, I believe, a 'railcar' style - you have to walk through one of the bedrooms to have access to the other bedroom and bathroom. At least it was originally. Improvements have been made so that you can access the 2nd bedroom and bathroom from an outside door. Which is lucky since I have the bedroom at the end of the hall and I like to get up earlier than my housemate. We had our housewarming party this past weekend. It was great fun and now we have plants to make our place look more 'homey'.

Project in Tapacari

In this post, I want to show you a project that one of my friends, Jason, worked on. It's out near the small village of Tapacari, which is about 3-4 hours away from Cochabamba. The project's goal was to try to provide a fresher, safer source of water to the village of about 1,000 people. We had to rent a truck with 4-wheel drive just to get there. I was skeptical that it was necessary to get such a vehicle until we turned onto the gravelly mountain road and then drove through patches of the river bed and river. The first picture is from the road a couple of kilometers away from the village. It is surrounded by riverbed. . . thankfully we went during the dry season! There is public transportation to the village only a handful of months out of the year due to the lack-of-roads and landslides during the rainy season. It is absolutely beautiful out there and the air, although thin, is really clean. My lungs appreciated the difference.

The next shot shows me on one of the mountains. We had to climb about half way up to fully appreciate the suspension-like bridge that holds the water pipe. The picture doesn't do it justice, but remember that this work was done largely by hand. 100-lb. bags of cement were carried up the mountain on the backs of villagers so they could hand mix and make concrete blocks to secure the riggings. No machines were used except maybe a winch, which was hand-cranked. Pretty impressive, huh?

The project was a success and the village now has a better source of water. Since the villagers helped with the work, they are invested in keeping the whole production up and running (this wasn't just a hand out). I am unsure just how many kilometers this project spans, but the source of water they are using is far away and the pipeline is very long. They had to hewn out parts of the mountain, dig trenches, and risk life and limb. I think water is something I've taken for granted since I've grown up next to Lake Michigan or lived in cities near fresh water sources and haven't had to worry if it was safe to drink (or even brush my teeth with). The reality here is quite different.

The last pictures I took as I glanced back at the route we had taken. It was a grueling ride. The roads are gravel and/or dirt and the riverbed is strewn with rocks so you feel like you're on a carnival ride that's broken. I was very thankful that I didn't have to drive!

Things that bite

My orientation of the Andean region is in full swing. The first stop was in Puno, Peru. It is located on the altiplano (high plains - around 13,500 ft) of the Andes, on the shores of Lake Titicaca. I was only there a week, but I really fell in love with the area and the people. It is a smaller city (around 150,000 people vs. Cochabamba's 800,000+) and has a small-town feel to it. For example, the movie theatre was showing Titanic (c. 1997). I am not sure if it was a re-run at the theater or not, but wow! Everything closes down relatively early, except for the tourist area (of course!). In order to get a feel for the broader area, I took a short trip out to three islands (one made of reeds, two on rock) on Lake Titicaca. I even got roped into trying on the local costumes. The local guide called me "Uros Barbie". Uros are a pre-Incan people that live on forty-two self-fashioned floating man-made islets in Lake Titicaca.
I've included a picture of the demonstration we had of how exactly the reeds manage to stay afloat. There are interesting things to eat in Peru. For example, guinea pig is common. It's called cuy (pronounced coo-ee). Another popular treat is alpaca. I was not so adventurous as to try either one of these as I am still practicing semi-vegetarianism. However, I heard that they are both tasty to those who enjoy things like greasy chicken and/or grilled venison. I was quite worried that during my overnight stay with the local people on island #2 (foundation of rock, not reeds) I would be forced to eat/pick at whatever they put in front of me, but I was quite happily surprised (relieved!) because we ate strictly vegetarian. Quinoa, potatoes, fava beans, and oca (kind of like a yam, but not). It was delicious! There's a tea in that area called muña, and it helps with your digestion after meals. It is an herb that grows naturally on the islands, I think. Another popular drink here (well, all of Peru, really) is called Pisco Sour. Those are quite good, and although I've tried them in the U.S., there is something about drinking them in Peru. I am told it has to do with the limes.


I had another run-in with my botched up Spanish. When we arrived at the second island and were shown to our host family's house, we got settled in, then ate lunch. Afterwards, our hostess explained that she would take us to the Plaza. And I asked her "What's going to happen at the plaza?" She responded, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you, I will be with you." Hm. That wasn't what I meant. . . so, not being a quick learner on these things, I asked again, "Oh, I know you'll be with us, but what will happen at the plaza?" To which she again replied, even slower than before, "Nothing. I . . . will . . . be . . .with . . . you." Now, you may be laughing, but this is quite a humbling experience. Finally, everything clicked for me and I asked her what types of activities were taking place at the plaza. And then I found out that one of the only things to do before nightfall was climbing one of the mountains: Pacha Tata or Pacha Mama. It took us a good 15 minutes of sitting in the plaza with our hostess before we realized we were supposed to be doing something other than watching her knit. (Insert another conversation about me asking what we were supposed to be doing - I'm sure you get the picture!)
After going the longer, alternative way up the mountain (I'm pretty sure it was used more for the locals than the tourists based on the rough, hewn-out path we discovered and the fact that nobody else was around EXCEPT for the one or two odd locals who gave us strange looks) we arrived at the peak of Pacha Tata in time for the sunset. I have to say, it was glorious. No picture really gives it justice, but I've included a shot of it anyway. As the sun quickly sank below the horizon, we realized we would be in complete darkness. Although there is a lot of tourism, there is not a lot of electricity, so we hurried down the mountainside (this time on the appointed tourist path) to meet our hostess. She led us back to her house and we ate our dinner in near-darkness as her kitchen/dining area did not have candles and had only a weak lightbulb which thankfully gave us enough light to distinguish what we were being served. (Yay! No mystery meat!)
All in all, Puno was great. I am sad that I will not have the opportunity in the near future to make it my home, as I have already agreed to stay in Cochabamba. That is one thing that bites.

The second part of my orientation took place in El Alto/La Paz in Bolivia. I was able to get a brief sense of the projects my fellow missioners had done in this area in the years past. I was getting a tour of the projects (a library, medical clinic, etc.) in Senkata (a neighborhood in El Alto) when I noticed two little boys and a dog approaching us. I didn't think anything of it until we had passed them and I felt the dog's mouth close down on my calf. The little bugger didn't even warn me with a growl - just decided to cowardly gnaw at me from behind. He/She made a puncture wound on one side of my calf and broke skin and made a huge bruise on the other side. I cleaned myself up as best I could in the street (with the help of my companions) and then started looking for the dog to find out if it had owners and the necessary shots. The little boys had actually been throwing rocks at said dog, and wanted nothing to do with him/her. After inquiring after the dog from several local people, it appeared to be owner-less, so I limped off to the local clinic where the wound was scrubbed out with a brush (ouch!) and I was referred to a bigger clinic so that I could start my rabies vaccination. Sigh. I was hoping the dog could just be watched for a week and if it died, THEN I would start the rabies treatment. But, no, the rules are if there is no owner and there are rabies cases in the area, you are obligated to undergo the treatment. Street dogs be damned. I finished off my 7 days of shots without too much bother and only have 3 more to go. Lesson learned: Carry a big stick or rock to fend yourself off with in case there are dogs in the barrio.

The Falls

To celebrate the end of language school, I took a short trip to Iguazu Falls with my fellow missioner, Michelle. These are waterfalls located on the borders of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina. It was breathtaking to be there, especially when the sun was out. It is located in a sub-tropical area, so it was warmer than Cochabamba in the winter. Michelle and I had one 'adventure day' where we zip-lined (canopyed) above the tree line and rapelled down a rock face. It was really cool and surprisingly safe. :) Sadly, I did not practice my castellano as much as I would have hoped. The Spanish I heard in Argentina has such a strong accent (with a mix of Portuguese) that I gave up and just started saying "si" to almost everything. The Spanish spoken in Paraguay was much clearer, but with a mix of an indigenous language, Guarani.

While visiting the area, I also took in a jewel mine (mostly amethyst) and one of the modern marvels of the world, the Itaipu hydroelectric dam. It was a nice trip, but I was really happy to get back to Bolivia where everything is much, much cheaper.

Going native?

Here are a couple of pictures of me in my native afro-boliviano outfit, and dancing the Saya. It was fun. I don't think you could look any less afro boliviano than me, but the people loved it. Enjoy! (These dresses make you look big, so no, Dad, I am not super fat. Ha, ha!)

Language school officially over!

Yippee! Language school is over. I officially graduated yesterday and then celebrated with my classmates in fine style with a talent show followed by a banquet and dance. Gotta love Bolivia - almost any celebration includes dancing. :)

I leave for Paraguay on Wednesday, June 17th, to visit the Waterfalls of Iguazu for a short vacation but first I get to visit the Paraguayan consulate in Bolivia where they have assured me that it takes just a day to get a vistor's visa. Hm. I've scheduled 3 days just in case! Wish me luck.

In other news, I celebrated a birthday recently and thought I should document what I look like at this age and since I only had a webcam, this is it. Thanks to everyone who remembered the day and/or sent me something in the mail. Maybe someday that mail will actually make it to me.
My bolivian host mom cooked all of my favorite dishes and made a fabulously huge rum cake. It was delicious - seems that Bolivians show love through food!

I'll post some vacation pix the next time I write. In July I start my orientation and will start working. I can't wait!

Coch it is!!

Well, it´s final. I will be living in Cochabamba full-time. I will NOT be moving to El Alto after language school is finished. After a long and soul-searching series of meetings, the members of my region (and I) decided that it would be best for me and the other new missioner, Michelle, to stay put in Cochabamba. At first I had a really hard time with the idea of staying here. It didn´t feel right and I had put all of my hopes and dreams into a city/location that was in the altiplano. I was looking forward to the cold, to seeing my breath in the morning, to living in a place that was almost 100% indigenous. BUT, things have changed and I am now happy that I will be able to stay in Cochabamba, known as the land of eternal spring. (Eternal Spring? Hm. We´ll see about that.)

I did have the opportunity recently to visit La Paz/El Alto and both cities are wonderful and I will definitely be back there when I can fit in a visit. The feel is completely different from Cochabamba. Definitely more cosmopolitan in La Paz and more ´campo´-like in El Alto. El Alto is located outside of La Paz and it is starkly beautiful in my opinion. There are mountains surrounding both cities and the air is very thin. You really have to work at just walking around. (13,500 ft. above sea level)

The next questions will be: Where will I live in Cochabamba? Where will I work? What will my life look like? Exciting and a bit scary at the same time. I´ve been really spoiled here so far. As I´ve been in a language program, I have been living with a host family who makes all of my meals, does my laundry, etc. I am actually looking forward to having more control over what I will eat but I will miss my host family and the area of the city in which I have been living. Wherever I do live will be in a poorer area and I think both Michelle and I aspire to live outside of the city of Cochabamba in a rural area. Yikes. . . my only requirement so far has been that there is running water. Yeah, I´ll get back to you guys on that. hahaha

Let me know if you have any questions. I´m winding down my time in language school. 2.5 weeks to go! Woohoo! Immediately afterwards I am trying to take a ´cheap´vacation. Wish me luck.

Where's Grandma?

Some days I feel like I am getting nowhere with my language studies. One day last week, I went downstairs to eat lunch with my host family and noticed that my abuelita (grandma) wasn't there. This was highly unusual. I asked my host mom where she was and my host mom replied, "She left."
"Oh, you mean she left for the meal and she'll be home later?" I asked.
"No. She left."
This worried me because in my mind, 'she left' meant that she wasn't living at our house anymore so I asked where Grandma had gone and this was the reply I got:
"Lauren, she left. She is free to do what she pleases, she is an adult. If she wants to eat or live somewhere else, it is up to her."
Hm, I thought. Abuelita doesn't go ANYWHERE alone. I started to panic that a) there had been a falling out and Grandma stormed off and b) I really wasn't understanding any Spanish any more so I continued to pursue my line of questioning.
"I don't understand. Where exactly is Grandma?"
and again the reply was:
"She left. She is welcome in this house at any time, but she is free to go if she chooses."

At this point, I gave up. I guess Grandma left. Why not just say, 'She had lunch with her sister.' or 'Grandma decided to go back to Aunt Claudia's house for awhile.' Gee, I think that would be too easy. Instead I got, "She left."

A few minutes later, I thought I would try to strike up a different conversation:
"Will you guys have another student next semester?"
"We have no idea. It's really up to the institute to offer students a 'homestay' and then there's the question of if the institute will have enough students to place with host families."
Alright, I thought, that was fair enough; they answered the question the way I had posed it. But it didn't answer what I really wanted to know, so I tried a different tact:
"Do you guys WANT a student next semester?"
This question was practically greeted with applause. "Now that, Lauren, is a good question." And I preceded to get the information I was seeking.

I guess the moral of the story is I have to stop thinking like an English speaker and start thinking like a Spanish speaker (or Bolivian, in this case) in order to find out exactly what I want to know. I think I might be starting to get the hang of it.

p.s. Grandma reappeared sometime in the afternoon that same day. I didn't bother asking where she had been because I was afraid I would get the same line of answers I had received before. (And I couldn't ask her directly because I can't understand her yet, she had a stroke last year that limits her speech.)
But I guess she didn't leave after all. :)

Holy Week

Last week I went to Chiquitania to visit the Jesuit missions of the colonial period. I happened to be there for Palm Sunday and here is a shot of the procession, which started at the cemetery and ended up at the church. A lot of people were there and even the dogs came along. :)

It was a good trip and I've included a few shots of the art here. They incorporated the indigenous spirituality into many sculptures, statues, and . For example, St. Francis is shown with an anteater and some kind of South American bird and pirahnas. Not quite what we're used to seeing in the US, huh? The Mary is an indigenous Mary, and the colors are also native to the area.

Here's a brief commentary on my Holy Week experience: On Holy Thursday the Cochabambinos have a tradition of visiting churches. I wasn't sure what that meant exactly until I participated in the event. Every church creates a shrine and displays the Holy Eucharist. People then go from church to church to pay respects. There are 15 churches that have a theme of one of the stations of the cross. Most people try to visit those 15 churches. Imagine crowds of disorganized people pushing you in and out of doorways, determined to get to the first row to say their prayers. Wow. After the 4th church we visited, I was wondering how many I would be able to stomach, but I didn't completely poop out until the 10th. Outside of the churches, there's a carnival-type atmosphere. Fried food and sugary smells hang in the air and vendors are selling dolls, palms, and 'piggy' banks (of all things!). It was quite the change to go from the quiet of the church to the party that awaited outdoors. My teachers told me it was a night for youth because you actually go to check out the opposite sex. All the guys I saw were already with someone. . . humph!
Good Friday was a day of eating. Yes, that's right, eating. There are 12 traditional meatless dishes served, I assume 12 to represent the 12 apostles. I went on my first Spanish 'Via Crucis', the Stations of the Cross in a barrio (neighborhood) in the southern zone of Cochabamba. We walked to the 15 stations throughout the neighborhood and at each one, the youth of the church acted out the scenes. It was really cool to witness the high level of participation and I even saw people joining us as we walked down the streets. It's been said that the people here can identify much more with the crucified Christ (suffering) than the risen Christ, so the Big Day of holy week is not Easter, but rather Good Friday.
The Easter Vigil started with a huge bonfire where there was yet another play. Good triumphed over evil. The rest of the Mass was fine, but I have to say I missed my old parish in Milwaukee.

Tomorrow I return to language school after a week's break to see if all Spanish has disappeared from my mind or if I had a good break from studying and am speaking better than ever!

Adjustments

I am nearly halfway through my time at language school and this week all the students were evaluated to determine how much each person has learned in the past couple of months. One of my teachers explained today how they determine a person's language level. Surprisingly, it has little to do with grammar and more to do with how well you can get your point across. At least, that is how I am interpreting it. Getting my point across. . . I was shopping with a friend earlier this week and we were looking for post cards. We went into one shop and I know I asked (in perfect Spanish!) for the right thing but the salesclerk looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. Sometimes I feel like I look so foreign that people (such as vendors) assume that I cannot speak a lick of Spanish and are shocked when the words come out of my mouth. I find myself repeating my sentences several times before the shock wears off. I suppose it'll be one of those things I'll get used to eventually, but for now it's pretty frustrating. (If you look at the pictures I posted after the wedding, you can see how there aren't too many tall blondes who are lily-white.)

Today I picked up my carnet, an identification card that declares I have a Bolivian Visa and can stay (legally) in the country for a year. Hooray! It was a long process and my first in-country experience with how the authority seemingly kept changing the rules every time I showed up at the immigration office. One of the most frustrating parts of the process was trying to get my picture taken. Apparently there was only one camera in all of Cochabamba that could take pictures for ID cards and it was broken for 2.5 months. The backup on this was so bad that they were only taking the pictures of 15 people in the morning and 15 in the afternoon. By my third visit to attempt to get my picture taken, I was told of this new rule. The next day four fellow students and I decided we had had enough and we camped out in front of the immigration office a couple of hours before it opened to ensure that we would be the first ones to get our pictures taken that day. It worked, but it took over 3 hours to get the 5 pictures taken. Welcome to Bolivia?!

My home life with my host family continues to go well. We have an addition to the family – Grandma. She decided she wanted to live at our house for awhile. (I guess she switches between all of her childrens' houses when the mood strikes her.) She had a stroke last year and because of it she does not talk very much. I've also discovered that she must be a bit deaf because she likes to watch TV at full volume. All in all she is sweet and is content to be left alone. The other addition to our household will be my host-brother's new wife. I am pretty interested to see how everyone will get along. It can't be easy – to be a newlywed and find yourself in your husband's house where you are controlled by another woman's household rules. The bride and groom are still on their honeymoon so she hasn't actually spent any time at our house yet. Wish us all luck. :)

I realized recently that I am starting to experience the pangs of culture shock. It isn't necessarily manifesting itself in homesickness at this time, but rather safety. Here's one concrete example I can give: The seasons are changing and the sun is rising later each day. Since I enjoy running in the morning, I find myself wondering if it is safe to go to the park. For example, is it just my imagination, or have 'the regulars', who I've gotten accustomed to, disappeared? Where are all my fellow walkers/joggers? Is the park not safe, even though it is well-lit? Normally, I don't think this would faze me. I mean, I lived in a rougher area of the Bronx and literally ran in the dark and semi-dark for a year. But it was in culture that I could (sort of) recognize. Here all the 'rules' seem different.

The Wedding

My host brother Ronald got married to his sweetheart Lorena this past weekend. The reception was a blast and I danced a lot. It was a fancy wedding and the service was fantastic. It was raining when we left the reception and I didn't want to ruin my shoes so the valet picked me up and carried me to a spot where there wasn't a puddle. :)

The newlyweds will actually be living in my house when they return from their honeymoon. They have bought a condo in Cochabamba, but it won't be ready until January 2010.





my host parents